UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
AT  LOS  ANGELES 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS 


9 


BOOKS  BY  RUDYARD  KIPLING 


Actions  and  Reactions 

The  Brushwood  Boy- 
Captains  Courageous 

Collected  Verse 

The  Day's  Work 

Departmental   Ditties  and  Ballads  and  Barrack- 
Room  Ballads 

The  Five  Nations 

From  Sea  to  Sea 

A   History  of  England.     (In  Collaboration  with 
C.  R.  L.  Fletcher) 

If 

The  Jungle  Book 

The  Second  Jungle  Book 

Just  So  Stories 

Kim 

Life's  Handicap:  Being  Stories  of  Mine  Own  People 

The  Light  That  Failed 

Many  Inventions       ^^^^ 

The  Naulahka:  A  S^BHBthe  West  and  East 
(Written  with  "^H^mBalestier) 

Plain  Tales  from  th^mTO 

Puck  of  Pook's  Hill 

Rewards  and  Fairies 

The  Seven  Seas 

Soldier  Stories 

Soldiers  Three,  The  Story  of  the  Gadsbys,  and 
In  Black  and  White 

The  Song  of  the  English 

Songs  from  Books 

Stalky  &  Co.. 

They 

Traffics  and  Discoveries 

Under  the  Deodars,  The  Phantom  'Rickshaw,  and 
Wee  Willie  Winkie 

With  the  Night  Mail 


"IT   WAS   THICK   WEATHER   OUTSIDE,   WITH    A    RISING   WIND.    . 
THE^^OSING   BOWS   SLAPPED   AND   SCUFFLED   WITH   THE   SEAS. 


'CAPTAINS  COURAGEOUS" 


A  STORY  OF  THE 
GRAND  BANKS 


BY 

RUDYARD    KIPLING 

21  ^1  H- 


NEW  YORK 
THE   CENTURY   CO. 

1915 


Copyright,  189/5,  189^, 


12  21 


c 


n 


TO 

JAMES    CONLAND,  M.  D., 

BRATTLEBORO,  VERMONT. 


I  ploughed  the  land  with  horses, 

But  my  heart  was  ill  at  ease, 
For  the  old  sea-faring  men 
Came  to  me  now  and  then, 
With  their  sagas  of  the  seas. 

Longfellow. 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 

•■*  IT  WAS  THICK  WEATHER  OUTSIDE,  WITH  A  RISING 
WIND.     .     .      .      THE     NOSING     BOWS     SLAPPED     AND 

SCUFFLED  WITH  THE  SEAS." Frontispiece. 

PAGE 

HARVEY  5 

"  THEN    A    LOW,  GRAY    MOTHER-WAVE    SWUNG    OUT  OF 

THE     FOG,  TUCKED     HARVEY    UNDER    ONE    ARM,    SO 

TO    SPEAK,   AND    PULLED    HIM    OFF    AND    AWAY   TO 

LEEWARD." II 

"  HE  MUST  NEEDS  STAND  UP  TO  IT,  SWAYING  WITH 
THE  SWAY  OF  THE  FLAT-BOTTOMED  DORY,  AND 
SEND  A  GRINDING,  THUTTERING  SHRIEK  THROUGH 
THE    FOG."         15 

"  '  EXCUSE  !  '  CRIED  HARVEY.  '  d'  YOU  SUPPOSE  I  'd 
FALL  OVERBOARD  INTO  YOUR  DIRTY  LITTLE  BOAT 
FOR   FUN?'" 21 

THE    "  WE  're    HERE." 37 

■''  '  I    'lL    LAY     MY    WAGE    AN'    SHARE     HE    'S     OVER    A 

HUNDRED.'  " 73 

"  A  FEW  SECONDS  LATER  A  HISSING  WAVE-TOP  .  .  . 
SMOTE  UNCLE  SALTERS  BETWEEN  THE  SHOULDERS, 
AND   DRENCHED    HIM    FROM    HEAD   TO    FOOT."    .     .         85 

"FOR    AN    HOUR    LONG   JACK    WALKED    HIS    PREY   UP 
AND   DOWN,  TEACHING,  AS    HE    SAID,  'THINGS    IVRY 
MAN    MUST    KNOW,    BLIND,    DHRUNK,  OR   ASLEEP.'  "      QI 
vii 


viii  LIST   OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

"*'t   is   a   concert,'    said   long  jack,  beaming 

THROUGH      THE       SMOKE.        'A      REG'LAR      BOSTON 

CONCERT.'  " HI 

"  THEY  RAN  DOWN  TO  WHERE  ABISHAl'S  CRAFT  HAD 
vanished;     FOUND    TWO    OR    THREE    TRAWL-TUBS, 

a  gin-bottle,  and  a  stove-in  dory,  but  no- 
thing more." 129 

"  a  whiteness  moved  in  the  whiteness  of  the 
fog.  .  .  it  was  his  first  introduction  to 
the  dread  summer  berg  of  the  bank."     .    .     i43 

"  there  were  days  of  light  airs,  when  harvey 
was  taught  how  to  steer  the  schooner 
from  one  berth  to  another," 151 

"'hi!     say!     arr^tez    vous!     attendee!     nous 

SOMMES  VENANT   POUR  TABAC'    '  AH,  TABAC, 

tabac!'" 163 

•'  it  was  wonderful  fishing.  harvey  could  see 
the  glimmering  cod  below,  .  .  .  biting  as 
steadily  as  they  swam.  .  .  .  but  so  close 
lay    the    boats    that     even     single     hooks 

SNARLED."         203 

DRESSING   DOWN    ON    THE    "  WE   'RE    HERE."  ....      225 

"DORIES      CAME      ALONGSIDE      WITH      LETTERS      FOR 

HOME." 233 

THE  "  CONSTANCE." 247 

MRS.      CHEYNE      INTRODUCES      THE      CREW      OF      THE 

"WE    're     here"    to    THE    "CONSTANCE."      .     .     .      273 

"  HIS  FATHER  TURNED  WHERE  HE  SAT  AND  THRUST 
OUT  A  LONG  HAND.  '  YOU  KNOW  AS  WELL  AS  I 
DO  THAT  I  can't  MAKE  ANYTHING  OF  YOU  IF  YOU 
don't    act    STRAIGHT    BY    ME.'  " 289 

BIDDING    FAREWELL   TO    THE    "  WE  'rE    HERE."        .     .      319 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

A   STORY   OF   THE   GRAND   BANKS 


CHAPTER  I 

a  7  V/^ 

THE  weather  door  of  the  smoking-room 
had  been  left  open  to  the  North  Atlantic 
fog,  as  the  big  liner  rolled  and  lifted,  whistling 
to  warn  the  fishing- fleet. 

"That  Cheyne  boy  's  the  biggest  nuisance 
aboard,"  said  a  man  in  a  frieze  overcoat,  shut- 
ting the  door  with  a  bang.  "He  is  n't 
wanted  here.     He  's  too  fresh." 

A  white-haired  German  reached  for  a  sand- 
wich, and  grunted  between  bites :  "  I  know 
der  breed.  Ameriga  is  full  of  dot  kind.  I 
dell  you  you  should  imbort  ropes'  ends  free 
under  your  dariff." 

**  Pshaw !  There  is  n't  any  real  harm  to 
him.  He  's  more  to  be  pitied  than  anything," 
a  man  from  New  York  drawled,  as  he  lay  at 


2    .  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

full  length  along  the  cushions  under  the  wet 
skylight.  "  They  've  dragged  him  around 
from  hotel  to  hotel  ever  since  he  was  a  kid. 
I  was  talking  to  his  mother  this  morning. 
She  's  a  lovely  lady,  but  she  don't  pretend  to 
manage  him.  He  's  going  to  Europe  to  fin- 
ish his  education." 

"  Education  is  n't  begun  yet."  This  was  a 
Philadelphian,  curled  up  in  a  corner.  "That 
boy  gets  two  hundred  a  month  pocket-money, 
he  told  me.     He  is  n't  sixteen  either." 

"Railroads,  his  father,  aind't  it?"  said  the 
German. 

"  Yep.  That  and  mines  and  lumber  and 
shipping.  Built  one  place  at  San  Diego,  the 
old  man  has  ;  another  at  Los  Angeles  ;  owns 
half  a  dozen  railroads,  half  the  lumber  on  the 
Pacific  slope,  and  lets  his  wife  spend  the 
money,"  the  Philadelphian  went  on  lazily. 
"  The  West  don't  suit  her,  she  says.  She 
just  tracks  around  with  the  boy  and  hei 
nerves,  trying  to  find  out  what  '11  amuse  hiniy 
I  guess.  Florida,  Adirondacks,  Lakewood, 
Hot  Springs,  New  York,  and  round  again. 
He  is  n't  much  more  than  a  second-hand  ho- 
tel clerk  now.  When  he  's  finished  in  Europe 
he  '11  be  a  holy  terror." 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  3 

"What  's  the  matter  with  the  old  man  at- 
tending to  him  personally  ?  "  said  a  voice  from 
the  frieze  ulster. 

"Old  man  's  piling  up  the  rocks.  'Don't 
want  to  be  disturbed,  I  guess.  He  '11  find  out 
his  error  a  few  years  from  now.  'Pity,  be- 
cause there  's  a  heap  of  good  in  the  boy  if 
you  could  get  at  it." 

"  Mit  a  rope's  end;  mit  a  rope's  end!" 
growled  the  German. 

Once  more  the  door  banged,  and  a  slight, 
slim-built  boy  perhaps  fifteen  years  old,  a 
half-smoked  cigarette  hanging  from  one  cor- 
ner of  his  mouth,  leaned  in  over  the  high 
footway.  His  pasty  yellow  complexion  did 
not  show  well  on  a  person  of  his  years,  and 
his  look  was  a  mixture  of  irresolution,  bra- 
vado, and  very  cheap  smartness.  He  was 
dressed  in  a  cherry-colored  blazer,  knicker- 
bockers, red  stockings,  and  bicycle  shoes, 
with  a  red  flannel  cap  at  the  back  of  the  head. 
After  whistling  between  his  teeth,  as  he  eyed 
the  company,  he  said  in  a  loud,  high  voice: 
"  Say,  it  's  thick  outside.  You  can  hear  the 
fish-boats  squawking  all  around  us.  Say, 
would  n't  it  be  great  if  we  ran  down  one  ?  " 

"Shut   the    door,  Harvey,"  said   the   New 


4  "CAPTAINS  COURAGEOUS" 

Yorker.  "  Shut  the  door  and  stay  outside. 
You  're  not  wanted  here." 

"  Who  '11  stop  me  ?  "  he  answered  deliber- 
ately. *'  Did  you  pay  for  my  passage,  Mister 
Martin  ?  'Guess  I  've  as  good  right  here  as 
the  next  man." 

He  picked  up  some  dice  from  a  checker- 
board and  began  throwing,  right  hand 
against    left. 

*'  Say,  gen'elmen,  this  is  deader  'n  mud. 
Can't  we  make  a  game  of  poker  between 
us : 

There  was  no  answer,  and  he  puffed  his 
cigarette,  swung  his  legs,  and  drummed  on 
the  table  with  rather  dirty  fingers.  Then  he 
pulled  out  a  roll  of  bills  as  if  to  count  them. 

"How  's  your  mama  this  afternoon?"  a 
man  said.     "  I  did  n't  see  her  at  lunch." 

"  In  her  state-room,  I  guess.  She  's  'most 
always  sick  on  the  ocean.  I  'm  going  to 
give  the  stewardess  fifteen  dollars  for  looking 
after  her.  I  don't  go  down  more  'n  I  can 
avoid.  It  makes  me  feel  mysterious  to  pass 
that  butler's-pantry  place.  Say,  this  is  the 
first  time  I  've  been  on  the  ocean." 

"  Oh,  don't  apologize,  Harvey." 

"Who  's    apologizing?     This    is   the   first 


HARVEY. 


"CAPTAINS  COURAGEOUS"  7 

time  I  've  crossed  the  ocean,  gen'elmen,  and, 
except  the  first  day,  I  have  n't  been  sick  one 
little  bit.  No,  sir !  "  He  brought  down  his 
fist  with  a  triumphant  bang,  wetted  his  finger, 
and  went  on  counting  the  bills. 

"  Oh,  you  're  a  high-grade  machine,  with 
the  writing  in  plain  sight,"  the  Philadelphian 
yawned.  "  You  '11  blossom  into  a  credit  to 
your  country  if  you  don't  take  care." 

"I  know  it.  I  'm  an  American  —  first, 
last,  and  all  the  time.  I  '11  show  'em  that 
when  I  strike  Europe.  Pff !  My  cig  's  out,  I 
can't  smoke  the  truck  the  steward  sells.  Any 
gen'elman  got  a  real  Turkish  cig  on  him  ? " 

The  chief  engineer  entered  for  a  moment, 
red,  smiling,  and  wet.  "Say,  Mac,"  cried 
Harvey  cheerfully,  "how  are  we  hitting  it?" 

"  Vara  much  in  the  ordinary  way,"  was  the 
grave  reply.  "The  young  are  as  polite  as 
ever  to  their  elders,  an'  their  elders  are  e'en 
tryin'  to  appreciate  it." 

A  low  chuckle  came  from  a  corner.  The 
German  opened  his  cigar-case  and  handed 
a  skinny  black  cigar  to  Harvey. 

"  Dot  is  der  broper  apparatus  to  smoke, 
my  young  friendt,"  he  said.  "You  vill  dry 
it?     Yes?     Den  you  vill  be  efer  so  happy." 


8  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

Harvey  lit  the  unlovely  thing  with  a  flour- 
ish :  he  felt  that  he  was  getting  on  in  grown- 
up societyo 

"  It  would  take  more  'n  this  to  keel  me 
over,"  he  said,  ignorant  that  he  was  lighting 
that  terrible  article,  a  Wheeling  "  stogie." 

"  Dot  we  shall  bresently  see,"  said  the 
German.  "  Where  are  we  now,  Mr.  Mac- 
tonal'  ? " 

*'Just  there  or  thereabouts,  Mr.  Schaefer," 
said  the  engineer.  "We'll  be  on  the  Grand 
Bank  to-night;  but  in  a  general  way  o'  speak- 
in',  we  're  all  among  the  fishing-fleet  now. 
We  've  shaved  three  dories  an'  near  skelped 
the  boom  off  a  Frenchman  since  noon,  an' 
that 's  close  sailin',  ye  may  say." 

"  You  like  my  cigar,  eh  ? "  the  German 
asked,  for  Harvey's  eyes  were  full  of  tears. 

"  Fine,  full  flavor,"  he  answered  through 
shut  teeth.  "Guess  we  've  slowed  down  a  lit- 
tle, have  n't  we?  I  '11  skip  out  and  see  what 
the  log  says," 

"  I  might  if  I  vhas  you,"  said  the  German. 

Harvey  staggered  over  the  wet  decks  to  the 
nearest  rail.  He  was  very  unhappy;  but  he 
saw  the  deck-steward  lashinof  chairs  tog-ether, 
and,  since  he  had  boasted  before  the  man  that 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  9 

he  was  never  seasick,  his  pride  made  him  go 
aft  to  the  second-saloon  deck  at  the  stern, 
which  was  finished  in  a  turtle-back.  The 
deck  was  deserted,  and  he  crawled  to  the  ex- 
treme end  of  it,  near  the  flag-pole.  There  he 
doubled  up  in  limp  agony,  for  the  Wheeling 
"  stogie  "  joined  with  the  surge  and  jar  of  the 
screw  to  sieve  out  his  soul.  His  head  swelled  ; 
sparks  of  fire  danced  before  his  eyes  ;  his  body 
seemed  to  lose  weight,  while  his  heels  wa- 
vered in  the  breeze.  He  was  fainting  from 
seasickness,  and  a  roll  of  the  ship  tilted  him 
over  the  rail  on  to  the  smooth  lip  of  the  tur- 
tle-back. Then  a  low,  gray  mother-wave 
swung  out  of  the  fog,  tucked  Harvey  under 
one  arm,  so  to  speak,  and  pulled  him  off  and 
away  to  leeward ;  the  great  green  closed  over 
him,  and  he  went  quietly  to  sleep. 

He  was  roused  by  the  sound  of  a  dinner- 
horn  such  as  they  used  to  blow  at  a  summer- 
school  he  had  once  attended  in  the  Adiron- 
dacks.  Slowly  he  remembered  that  he  was 
Harvey  Cheyne,  drowned  and  dead  in  mid- 
ocean,  but  was  too  weak  to  fit  things  together. 
A  new  smell  filled  his  nostrils  ;  wet  and  clammy 
chills  ran  down  his  back,  and  he  was  help- 
lessly full  of  salt  water.     When  he  opened  his 


lo  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

eyes,  he  perceived  that  he  was  still  on  the  top 
of  the  sea,  for  it  was  running  round  him  in 
silver-colored  hills,  and  he  was  lying  on  a  pile 
of  half-dead  fish,  looking  at  a  broad  human 
back  clothed  in  a  blue  jersey. 

"  It  's  no  good,"  thought  the  boy.  *'  I  'm 
dead,  sure  enough,  and  this  thing  is  in  charge." 

He  groaned,  and  the  figure  turned  its  head, 
showing  a  pair  of  little  gold  rings  half  hidden 
in  curly  black  hair. 

"  Aha !  You  feel  some  pretty  well  now  ?  "  it 
said.      "  Lie  still  so  :  we  trim  better." 

With  a  swift  jerk  he  sculled  the  flickering 
boat-head  on  to  a  foamless  sea  that  lifted  her 
twenty  full  feet,  only  to  slide  her  into  a  glassy 
pit  beyond.  But  this  mountain-climbing  did 
not  interrupt  blue-jersey's  talk.  "  Fine  good 
job,  /  say,  that  I  catch  you.  Eh,  wha-at? 
Better  good  job,  /  say,  your  boat  not  catch 
me.      How  you  come  to  fall  out?" 

"I  was  sick,"  said  Harvey;  "sick,  and 
could  n't  help  it." 

"Just  in  time  I  blow  my  horn,  and  your 
boat  she  yaw  a  little.  Then  I  see  you  come 
all  down.  Eh,  wha-at?  I  think  you  are  cut 
into  baits  by  the  screw,  but  you  dreeft — dreeft 
to  me,  and  I  make  a  big  fish  of  you.  So  you 
shall  not  die  this  time." 


"THEN  A  LOW,  GRAY   MOTHER-WAVE   SWUNG   OUT   OF  THE  FOG, 

TUCKED   HARVEY   UNDER   ONE  ARM,  SO   TO   SPEAK,  AND 

PULLED   HIM   OFF  AND   AWAY   TO   LEEWARD." 


'^CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  13 

"  Where  am  I  ? "  said  Harvey,  who  could 
not  see  that  Hfe  was  particularly  safe  where 
he  lay. 

"You  are  with  me  in  the  dory  —  Manuel 
my  name,  and  I  come  from  schooner  We  're 
Here  of  Gloucester.  I  live  to  Gloucester. 
By-and-by  we  get  supper.     Eh,  wha-at  ?  " 

He  seemed  to  have  two  pairs  of  hands  and 
a  head  of  cast-iron,  for,  not  content  with  blow- 
ing through  a  big  conch-shell,  he  must  needs 
stand  up  to  it,  swaying  with  the  sway  of  the 
flat-bottomed  dory,  and  send  a  grinding, 
thuttering  shriek  through  the  fog.  How  long 
this  entertainment  lasted,  Harvey  could  not 
remember,  for  he  lay  back  terrified  at  the 
sight  of  the  smoking  swells.  He  fancied  he 
heard  a  gun  and  a  horn  and  shouting.  Some- 
thing bigger  than  the  dory,  but  quite  as  lively, 
loomed  alongside.  Several  voices  talked  at 
once ;  he  was  dropped  into  a  dark,  heaving 
hole,  where  men  in  oilskins  gave  him  a  hot 
drink  and  took  off  his  clothes,  and  he  fell 
asleep. 

When  he  waked  he  listened  for  the  first 
breakfast-bell  on  the  steamer,  wondering  why 
his  state-room  had  grown  so  small.  Turning, 
he  looked  into  a   narrow,  triangular  cave,  lit 


14  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

by  a  lamp  hung  against  a  huge  square 'beam. 
A  three-cornered  table  within  arm's  reach  ran 
from  the  angle  of  the  bows  to  the  foremast. 
At  the  after  end,  behind  a  well-used  Plymouth 
stove,  sat  a  boy  about  his  own  age,  with  a 
flat  red  face  and  a  pair  of  twinkling  gray 
eyes.  He  was  dressed  in  a  blue  jersey  and 
high  rubber  boots.  Several  pairs  of  the  same 
sort  of  foot-wear,  an  old  cap,  and  some  worn- 
out  woolen  socks  lay  on  the  floor,  and  black 
and  yellow  oilskins  swayed  to  and  fro  beside 
the  bunks.  The  place  was  packed  as  full  of 
smells  as  a  bale  is  of  cotton.  The  oilskins  had 
a  peculiarly  thick  flavor  of  their  own  which 
made  a  sort  of  background  to  the  smells  of 
fried  fish,  burnt  grease,  paint,  pepper,  and 
stale  tobacco ;  but  these,  again,  were  all 
hooped  together  by  one  encircling  smell  of 
ship  and  salt  water.  Harvey  saw  with  dis- 
gust that  there  were  no  sheets  on  his  bed-place. 
He  was  lying  on  a  piece  of  dingy  ticking  full 
of  lumps  and  nubbles.  Then,  too,  the  boat's 
motion  was  not  that  of  a  steamer.  She  was 
neither  sliding  nor  rolling,  but  rather  wrig- 
gling herself  about  in  a  silly,  aimless  way, 
like  a  colt  at  the  end  of  a  halter.  Water- 
noises    ran    by  close   to   his   ear,  and  beams 


I  c^,<^ 


'he  must  needs  stand  up  to  it,  swaying  with  the  sway 

OF  THE   flat-bottomed  DORY,  AND   SEND   A  GRINDING^ 
THUTTERING  shriek  through  THE   FOG." 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  17 

creaked  and  whined  about  him.  All  these 
things  made  him  grunt  despairingly  and 
think  of  his  mother. 

"  Feelin'  better? "  said  the  boy,  with  a  grin. 
"  Hev  some  coffee  ? "  He  brought  a  tin  cup 
full  and  sweetened  it  with  molasses. 

"Is  n't  there  milk?"  said  Harvey,  look- 
ing round  the  dark  double  tier  of  bunks  as  if 
he  expected  to  find  a  cow  there. 

**  Well,  no,"  said  the  boy.  "  Ner  there  ain't 
likely  to  be  till  'baout  mid-September.  'T  ain't 
bad  coffee.   "  I  made  it." 

Harvey  drank  in  silence,  and  the  boy  handed 
him  a  plate  full  of  pieces  of  crisp  fried  pork, 
which  he  ate  ravenously. 

"  I  've  dried  your  clothes.  Guess  they  've 
shrunk  some,"  said  the  boy.  "  They  ain't  our 
style  much  —  none  of 'em.  Twist  round  an' 
see  ef  you  're  hurt  any." 

Harvey  stretched  himself  in  every  direction, 
but  could  not  report  any  injuries. 

"  That 's  good,"  the  boy  said  heartily.  "  Fix 
yerself  an'  go  on  deck.  Dad  wants  to  see  you. 
I'm  his  son, —  Dan,  they  call  me, —  an'  I  'm 
cook's  helper  an'  everything  else  aboard  that 's 
too  dirty  for  the  men.  There  ain't  no  boy  here 
'cep'  me  sence  Otto  went  overboard — an'  he 


i8  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

was  only  a  Dutchy,  an'  twenty  year  old  at 
that.  How  d'  you  come  to  fall  off  in  a  dead 
flat  ca'am  ?  " 

"  'T  was  n't  a  calm,"  said  Harvey,  sulkily. 
"  It  was  a  gale,  and  I  was  seasick.  Guess  I 
must  have  rolled  over  the  rail." 

"  There  was  a  little  common  swell  yes'day 
an'  last  night,"  said  the  boy.  "  But  ef  thet's 
your  notion  of  a  gale — "  He  whistled.  "You'll 
know  more  'fore  you  're  through.  Hurry  ! 
Dad  's  waitin'." 

Like  many  other  unfortunate  yOung  people, 
Harvey  had  never  in  all  his  life  received  a  di- 
rect order — never,  at  least,  without  long,  and 
sometimes  tearful,  explanations  of  the  advan- 
tages of  obedience  and  the  reasons  for  the  re- 
quest. Mrs.  Cheyne  lived  in  fear  of  breaking 
his  spirit,  which,  perhaps,  was  the  reason  that 
she  herself  walked  on  the  edge  of  nervous 
prostration.  He  could  not  see  why  he  should 
be  expected  to  hurry  for  any  man's  pleasure, 
and  said  so.  "  Your  dad  can  come  down  here 
if  he  's  so  anxious  to  talk  to  me.  I  want  him 
to  take  me  to  New  York  right  away.  It  *11 
pay  him." 

Dan  opened  his  eyes,  as  the  size  and 
beauty  of  this  joke  dawned  on  him.     "Say, 


"CAPTAINS  COURAGEOUS"  19 

dad !  "  he  shouted  up  the  focsle  hatch,  "  he 
says  you  kin  slip  down  an'  see  him  ef  you  're 
anxious  that  way.     'Hear,  dad  ?  " 

The  answer  came  back  in  the  deepest  voice 
Harvey  had  ever  heard  from  a  human  chest : 
"  Quit  foohn',  Dan,  and  send  him  to  me." 

Dan  sniggered,  and  threw  Harvey  his 
warped  bicycle  shoes.  There  was  something 
in  the  tones  on  the  deck  that  made  the  boy 
dissemble  his  extreme  rage  and  console  him- 
self with  the  thought  of  gradually  unfolding 
the  tale  of  his  own  and  his  father's  wealth  on 
the  voyage  home.  This  rescue  would  cer- 
tainly make  him  a,  hero  among  his  friends  for 
life.  He  hoisted  himself  on  deck  up  a  per- 
pendicular ladder,  and  stumbled  aft,  over  a 
score  of  obstructions,  to  where  a  small,  thick- 
set, clean-shaven  man  with  gray  eyebrows 
sat  on  a  step  that  led  up  to  the  quarter-deck. 
The  swell  had  passed  in  the  night,  leaving  a 
long,  oily  sea,  dotted  round  the  horizon  with 
the  sails  of  a  dozen  fishing-boats.  Between 
them  lay  little  black  specks,  showing  where 
the  dories  were  out  fishing.  The  schooner, 
with  a  triangular  riding-sail  on  the  mainmast, 
played  easily  at  anchor,  and  except  for  the 
man  by  the  cabin-roof — "house"  they  call  it 
—  she  was  deserted. 


20  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

**  Mornin' —  Good  afternoon,  I  should  say. 
You  Ve  nigh  slep'  the  clock  around,  young 
feller,"  was  the  greeting. 

"  Mornin',"  said  Harvey.  He  did  not  like 
being  called  "young  feller";  and,  as  one 
rescued  from  drowning,  expected  sympathy. 
His  mother  suffered  agonies  whenever  he  got 
his  feet  wet ;  but  this  mariner  did  not  seem 
excited. 

"  Naow  let  's  hear  all  abaout  it.  It  *s 
quite  providential,  first  an'  last,  fer  all  con- 
cerned. What  might  be  your  name  ?  Where 
from  (we  mistrust  it  's  Noo  York),  an'  where 
baound  (we  mistrust  it  's  Europe)  ?  " 

Harvey  gave  his  name,  the  name  of  the 
steamer,  and  a  short  history  of  the  accident, 
winding  up  with  a  demand  to  be  taken  back 
immediately  to  New  York,  where  his  father 
would  pay  anything  any  one  chose  to  name. 

"  H'm,"  said  the  shaven  man,  quite  un- 
moved by  the  end  of  Harvey's  speech.  "I 
can't  say  we  think  special  of  any  man,  or  boy 
even,  that  falls  overboard  from  that  kind  o' 
packet  in  a  flat  ca'am.  Least  of  all  when  his 
excuse  is  thet  he  's  seasick." 

"  Excuse  !  "  cried  Harvey.  "  D'  you  sup- 
pose I  'd  fall  overboard  into  your  dirty  little 
boat  for  fun  ?  " 


"excuse!'    cried    HARVEY.        '  D'    YOU    SUPPOSE    I   'D    FALL 
OVERBOARD  INTO  YOUR  DIRTY  LITTLE  BOAT   FOR  FUN  ?  '  " 


"CAPTAINS  COURAGEOUS"  23 

'*  Not  knowin*  what  your  notions  o'  fun 
may  be,  I  can't  rightly  say,  young  feller.  But 
if  I  was  yoUy  I  would  n't  call  the  boat  which, 
under  Providence,  was  the  means  o'  savin'  ye, 
names.  In  the  first  place,  it 's  blame  irreli- 
gious. In  the  second,  it 's  annoyin'  to  my 
feelin's  —  an*  I  'm  Disko  Troop  o'  the  We  're 
Here  o*  Gloucester,  which  you  don't  seem 
rightly  to  know." 

*'  I  don*t  know  and  I  don't  care,"  said  Har- 
vey. **  I  'm  grateful  enough  for  being  saved 
and  all  that,  of  course ;  but  I  want  you  to  un- 
derstand that  the  sooner  you  take  me  back  to 
New  York  the  better  it  '11  pay  you." 

"  Meanin' —  haow  ?  "  Trooo  raised  one 
shaggy  eyebrow  over  a  suspiciously  mild 
blue  eye. 

"  Dollars  and  cents,"  said  Harvey,  de- 
lighted to  think  that  he  was  making  an 
impression.  '*  Cold  dollars  and  cents."  He 
thrust  a  hand  into  a  pocket,  and  threw  out 
his  stomach  a  little,  which  was  his  way  of 
being  grand.  **  You  Ve  done  the  best  day's 
work  you  ever  did  In  your  life  when  you 
pulled  me  in.  I  'm  all  the  son  Harvey  Cheyne 
has." 

"  He  *s  bin  favored,"  said  Disko,  dryly. 


24    •  "CAPTAINS  COURAGEOUS" 

"  And  if  you  don't  know  who  Harvey 
Cheyne  is,  you  don't  know  much  —  that  *s 
all.     Now  turn  her  around  and  let  *s  hurry." 

Harvey  had  a  notion  that  the  greater  part 
of  America  was  filled  with  people  discussing 
and  envying  his  father's  dollars. 

"  Mebbe  I  do,  an*  mebbe  I  don't.  Take  a 
reef  in  your  stummick,  young  feller.  It 's  full 
o'  my  vittles." 

Harvey  heard  a  chuckle  from  Dan,  who 
was  pretending  to  be  busy  by  the  stump-fore- 
mast, and  the  blood  rushed  to  his  face.  "  We  '11 
pay  for  that  too,"  he  said.  "When  do  you 
suppose  we  shall  get  to  New  York  ? " 

"  I  don't  use  Noo  York  any.  Ner  Boston. 
We  may  see  Eastern  Point  abaout  Septem- 
ber; an'  your  pa — I  *m  real  sorry  I  hain't 
heerd  tell  of  him  —  may  give  me  ten  dollars 
efter  all  your  talk.    Then  o'  course  he  may  n't." 

"Ten  dollars!  Why,  see  here,  I — "  Har- 
vey dived  into  his  pocket  for  the  wad  of  bills. 
All  he  brought  up  was  a  soggy  packet  of  cig- 
arettes. 

"  Not  lawful  currency,  an'  bad  for  the  lungs. 
Heave  *em  overboard,  young  feller,  and  try 
agin." 

"  It  *s  been  stolen  ! "  cried  Harvey,  hotly. 


"CAPTAINS  COURAGEOUS"         Vl*|  25 

"You  '11  hev  to  wait  till  you  see  your  pa 
to  reward  me,  then  ?  " 

"A  hundred  and  thirty-four  dollars  —  all 
stolen,"  said  Harvey,  hunting  wildly  through 
his  pockets.     **  Give  them  back." 

A  curious  change  flitted  across  old  Troop's 
hard  face.  *'What  might  you  have  been 
doin'  at  your  time  o*  life  with  one  hundred  an' 
thirty-four  dollars,  young  feller  ?  " 

"It  was  part  of  my  pocket-money  —  for 
a  month."  This  Harvey  thought  would  be  a 
knock-down  blow,  and  it  was  —  indirectly. 

"  Oh !  One  hundred  and  thirty-four  dol- 
lars is  only  part  of  his  pocket-money  —  for 
one  month  only !  You  don't  remember  hittin' 
anything  when  you  fell  over,  do  you  ?  Crack 
agin  a  stanchion,  le'  's  say.  Old  man  Hasken 
o*  the  East  Wind'' — Troop  seemed  to  be 
talking  to  himself —  "  he  tripped  on  a  hatch 
an'  butted  the  mainmast  with  his  head  — 
hardish.  'Baout  three  weeks  afterwards,  old 
man  Hasken  he  would  hev  it  that  the  East 
Wind  was  a  commerce-destroyin'  man-o'- 
war,  an'  so  he  declared  war  on  Sable  Island 
because  it  was  Bridish,  an'  the  shoals  run 
aout  too  far.  They  sewed  him  up  in  a  bed- 
bag,  his  head  an'  feet  appearin',  fer  the  rest 


26  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

o'  the  trip,  an'  now  he  's  to  home  in  Essex 
playin'  with  Httle  rag  dolls.'* 

Harvey  choked  with  rage,  but  Troop  went 
on  consolingly  :  "  We  're  sorry  fer  you. 
We  're  very  sorry  fer  you  —  an'  so  young. 
We  won't  say  no  more  abaout  the  money,  I 
guess." 

"  'Course  you  won't.     You  stole  it.'* 

"  Suit  yourself.  We  stole  it  ef  it  *s  any 
comfort  to  you.  Naow,  abaout  goin'  back. 
Allowin'  we  could  do  it,  which  we  can't,  you 
ain't  in  no  fit  state  to  go  back  to  your 
home,  an'  we  've  jest  come  on  to  the  Banks, 
workin'  fer  our  bread.  We  don't  see  the 
ha'af  of  a  hundred  dollars  a  month,  let  alone 
pocket-money ;  an'  with  good  luck  we  '11  be 
ashore  again  somewheres  abaout  the  first 
weeks  o'  September." 

**  But  —  but  it 's  May  now,  and  I  can't  stay 
here  doln'  nothing  just  because  you  want  to 
fish.     I  cant,  I  tell  you  ! " 

•'  Right  an'  jest ;  jest  an  right.  No  one 
asks  you  to  do  nothin'.  There  *s  a  heap  as 
you  can  do,  for  Otto  he  went  overboard  on  Le 
Have.  I  mistrust  he  lost  his  grip  in  a  gale 
we  fund  there.  Anyways,  he  never  come 
back  to   deny  it.      You  've  turned  up,  plain, 


"CAPTAINS  COURAGEOUS"  27 

plumb  providential  for  all  concerned.  I  mis- 
trust, though,  there  *s  ruther  few  things  you 
kin  do.     Ain't  thet  so  ?  " 

'*  I  can  make  it  lively  for  you  and  your 
crowd  when  we  get  ashore,"  said  Harvey,  with 
a  vicious  nod,  murmuring  vague  threats  about 
"piracy,"  at  which  Troop  almost — not  quite 

—  smiled. 

"  Excep'  talk.  I  'd  forgot  that.  You  ain't 
asked  to  talk  more  *n  you  've  a  mind  to  aboard 
the  We  're  Here.  Keep  your  eyes  open,  an' 
help  Dan  to  do  ez  he's  bid,  an'  sechlike,  an' 
I  '11  give  you — you  ain't  wuth  it,  but  I  '11  give 

—  ten  an'  a  ha'af  a  month;  say  thirty-five  at 
the  end  o'  the  trip.  A  little  work  will  ease 
up  your  head,  an'  you  kin  tell  us  all  abaout 
your  dad  an'  your  ma  an'  your  money  efter- 
wards." 

**  She  's  on  the  steamer,"  said  Harvey,  his 
eyes  filling  with  tears.  "Take  me  to  New 
York  at  once." 

"  Poor  woman — poor  woman  !  When  she 
has  you  back  she  '11  forgit  it  all,  though. 
There 's  eight  of  us  on  the  We  We  Here,  an'  ef 
we  went  back  naow — it's  more  'n  a  thousand 
mile — we  'd  lose  the  season.  The  men  they 
would  n't  hev  it,  allowin'  I  was  agreeable." 


28  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

"  But  my  father  would  make  it  all  right." 

"  He  'd  try.  I  don't  doubt  he  *d  try,"  said 
Troop;  "but  a  whole  season's  catch  is  eight 
men's  bread ;  an'  you  '11  be  better  in  your 
health  when  you  see  him  in  the  fall.  Go  for- 
ward an'  help  Dan.  It  's  ten  an'  a  ha'af  a 
month,  ez  I  said,  an',  o'  course,  all  fund,  same 
ez  the  rest  o'  us." 

"  Do  you  mean  I'm  to  clean  pots  and  pans 
and  things?"  said  Harvey. 

"  An'  other  things.  You  've  no  call  to  shout, 
young  feller." 

"  I  won't !  My  father  will  give  you  enough 
to  buy  this  dirty  little  fish-kettle  " —  Harvey 
stamped  on  the  deck —  "  ten  times  over,  if  you 
take  me  to  New  York  safe;  and — and — you  're 
in  a  hundred  and  thirty  by  me,  anyway." 

"  Ha-ow  ? "  said  Troop,  the  iron  face  dark- 
ening. 

"  How  ?  You  know  how,  well  enough.  On 
top  of  all  that,  you  want  me  to  do  menial 
work  " — Harvey  was  very  proud  of  that  adjec- 
tive— "till  the  Fall.  I  tell  you  I  will  not.  You 
hear?" 

Troop  regarded  the  top  of  the  mainmast 
with  deep  interest  for  a  while,  as  Harvey  ha- 
rangued  fiercely  all  around  him. 


"CAPTAINS  COURAGEOUS"  29 

"Hsh!"  he  said  at  last.  "I  'm  figurin' 
out  my  responsibilities  in  my  own  mind.  It 's 
a  matter  o'  jedgment." 

Dan  stole  up  and  plucked  Harvey  by  the 
elbow.  "  Don't  go  to  tamperin'  with  dad  any 
more,"  he  pleaded.  **  You  've  called  him  a 
thief  two  or  three  times  over,  an'  he  don't  take 
that  from  any  livin'  bein'." 

"  I  won't ! "  Harvey  almost  shrieked,  disre- 
garding the  advice,  and  still  Troop  meditated. 

**  Seems  kinder  unneighborly,"  he  said  at 
last,  his  eye  traveling  down  to  Harvey.  **  I 
don't  blame  you,  not  a  mite,  young  feller,  nor 
you  won't  blame  '}ne  when  the  bile  *s  out  o* 
your  systim.  'Be  sure  you  sense  what  I 
say  ?  Ten  an'  a  ha'af  fer  second  boy  on  the 
schooner  —  an'  all  fund  —  fer  to  teach  you 
an  fer  the  sake  o'  your  health.     Yes  or  no  ?  " 

"  No  !  "  said  Harvey.  '*  Take  me  back  to 
New  York  or  I  '11  see  you  —  " 

He  did  not  exactly  remember  what  follovv^ed. 
He  was  lying  in  the  scuppers,  holding  on  to  a 
nose  that  bled,  while  Troop  looked  down  on 
him  serenely. 

'*  Dan,"  he  said  to  his  son,  "  I  was  sot  agin 
this  young  feller  when  I  first  saw  him,  on  ac- 
count o'  hasty  jedgments.      Never  you  be  led 


so  "CAPTAINS  COURAGEOUS" 

astray  by  hasty  jedgments,  Dan.  Naow  I  'm 
sorry  for  him,  because  he  's  clear  distracted  in 
his  upper  works.  He  ain't  responsible  fer  the 
names  he  's  give  me,  nor  fer  his  other  state- 
ments— nor  fer  jumpin'  overboard,  which  I  'm 
abaout  ha'af  convinced  he  did.  You  be  gen- 
tle with  him,  Dan,  'r  I  '11  give  you  twice  what 
I  Ve  give  him.  Them  hemmeridges  clears 
the  head.     Let  him  sluice  it  off! " 

Troop  went  down  solemnly  into  the  cabin, 
where  he  and  the  older  men  bunked,  leav- 
ing Dan  to  comfort  the  luckless  heir  to  thirty 
millions. 


CHAPTER  II 

I  WARN  ED  ye,"  said  Dan,  as  the  drops 
fell  thick  and  fast  on  the  dark,  oiled 
planking.  "  Dad  ain't  noways  hasty,  but 
you  fair  earned  it.  Pshaw  !  there  's  no  sense 
takin'  on  so."  Harvey's  shoulders  were  rising 
and  falling  in  spasms  of  dry  sobbing.  "  I  know 
the  feelin'.  First  time  dad  laid  me  out  was 
the  last  —  and  that  was  my  first  trip.  Makes 
ye  feel  sickish  an'  lonesome.     /  know." 

"  It  does,"  moaned  Harvey.  "That  man  's 
either  crazy  or  drunk,  and — and  I  can't  do 
anything." 

"  Don't  say  that  to  dad,"  whispered  Dan. 
"  He  's  set  agin  all  liquor,  an'  —  well,  he  told 
me  you  was  the  madman.  What  in  creation 
made   you  call  him  a  thief?     He's  my  dad." 

Harvey  sat  up,  mopped  his  nose,  and  told 
the  story  of  the  missing  wad  of  bills.  "  I  'm 
not  crazy,"  he  wound  up.  "Only  —  your  fa- 
ther has  never  seen  more  than  a  five-dollar 


32  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS »» 

bill  at  a  time,  and  my  father  could  buy  up  this 
boat  once  a  week  and  never  miss  it." 

"  You  don't  know  what  the  We  We  Here  's 
worth.  Your  dad  must  hev  a  pile  o'  money. 
How  did  he  git  it?  Dad  sez  loonies  can't 
shake  out  a  straight  yarn.     Go  ahead." 

"  In  gold  mines  and  things,  West." 

*•  I  've  read  o'  that  kind  o'  business.  Out 
West,  too  ?  Does  he  go  around  with  a  pistol 
on  a  trick-pony,  same  ez  the  circus.  They 
call  that  the  Wild  West,  and  I  've  heard  that 
their  spurs  an'  bridles  was  solid  silver." 

"  You  are  a  chump  !  "  said  Harvey,  amused 
in  spite  of  himself.  "  My  father  has  n't  any 
use  for  ponies.  When  he  wants  to  ride  he 
takes  his  car." 

"  Haow  ?     Lobster-car  ?  " 

**  No.  His  own  private  car,  of  course. 
You  Ve  seen  a  private  car  some  time  in 
your  life  ?  " 

"  Slatin  Beeman  he  hez  one,"  said  Dan,  cau- 
tiously. '*  I  saw  her  at  the  Union  Depot  in 
Boston,  with  three  niggers  hoggin'  her  run." 
(Dan  meant  cleaning  the  windows.)  '*  But 
Slatin  Beeman  he  owns  'baout  every  railroad 
on  Long  Island,  they  say ;  an'  they  say  he  's 
bought  'baout  ha'af  Noo  Hampshire  an'  run  a 


"CAPTAINS  COURAGEOUS"  33 

line-fence  around  her,  an*  filled  her  up  with 
lions  an*  tigers  an'  bears  an'  buffalo  an*  croc- 
odiles an'  such  all.  Slatin  Beeman  he  *s  a 
millionaire.     I  *ve  seen  his  car.     Yes?" 

"  Well,  my  father  's  what  they  call  a  multi- 
millionaire; and  he  has  two  private  cars. 
One  *s  named  for  me,  the  *  Harvey,*  and  one 
for  my  mother,  the  *  Constance.'  ** 

"  Hold  on,"  said  Dan.  "  Dad  don't  ever 
let  me  swear,  but  I  guess  jj/^/^  can.  'Fore  we 
go  ahead,  I  want  you  to  say  hope  you  may 
die  if  you  're  lying." 

"Of  course,"  said  Harvey. 

'*  Thet  ain't  'nuff.  Say,  *Hope  I  may  die  If 
I  ain't  speakin'  truth.' " 

*'  Hope  I  may  die  right  here,"  said  Harvey, 
"  if  every  word  I  've  spoken  is  n't  the  cold 
truth." 

"Hundred  an*  thirty-four  dollars  an*  all?" 
said  Dan.  **  I  heard  ye  talkin'  to  dad,  an'  I 
ha'af  looked  you  'd  be  swallered  up,  same  's 
Jonah." 

Harvey  protested  himself  red  in  the  face. 
Dan  was  a  shrewd  young  person  along  his 
own  lines,  and  ten  minutes'  questioning  con- 
vinced him  that  Harvey  was  not  lying — much. 
Besides,  he  had  bound  himself  by  the  most 


.34  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

terrible  oath  known  to  boyhood,  and  yet  he 
sat,  ahve,  with  a  red- ended  nose,  in  the  scup- 
pers, recounting  marvels  upon  marvels. 

'*  Gosh ! "  said  Dan  at  last  from  the  very 
bottom  of  his  soul  when  Harvey  had  completed 
an  inventory  of  the  car  named  in  his  honor. 
Then  a  grin  of  mischievous  delight  overspread 
his  broad  face.  "  I  believe  you,  Harvey. 
Dad  's  made  a  mistake  fer  once  in  his  life." 

"He  has,  sure,"  said  Harvey,  who  was 
meditating  an  early  revenge. 

"  He  '11  be  mad  clear  through.  Dad  jest 
hates  to  be  mistook  in  his  jedgments."  Dan 
lay  back  and  slapped  his  thigh.  *'  Oh,  Har- 
vey, don't  you  spile  the  catch  by  lettin*  on." 

•*  I  don't  want  to  be  knocked  down  again. 
I  '11  get  even  with  him,  though." 

**  Never  heard  any  man  ever  got  even  with 
dad.  But  he  'd  knock  ye  down  again  sure. 
The  more  he  was  mistook  the  more  he  'd  do 
it.     But  gold  mines  and  pistols — " 

**  I  never  said  a  word  about  pistols,"  Harvey 
cut  in,  for  he  was  on  his  oath. 

"Thet's  so;  no  more  you  did.  Two  pri- 
vate cars,  then,  one  named  fer  you  an'  one  fer 
her ;  an'  two  hundred  dollars  a  month  pocket- 
money,  all  knocked  into  the  scuppers  fer  not 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  35 

workin'  fer  ten  an'  a  ha'af  a  month !  It  's  the 
top  haul  o'  the  season."  He  exploded  with 
noiseless  chuckles. 

"Then  I  was  right?**  said  Harvey,  who 
thought  he  had  found  a  sympathizer. 

"You  was  wrong;  the  wrongest  kind  o* 
wrong  !  You  take  right  hold  an'  pitch  in 
'longside  o'  me,  or  you  '11  catch  it,  an'  I  '11 
catch  it  fer  backin*  you  up.  Dad  always  gives 
me  double  helps  'cause  I  'm  his  son,  an'  he 
hates  favorin'  folk.  Guess  you  're  kinder  mad 
at  dad.  I  've  been  that  way  time  an'  again. 
But  dad  's  a  mighty  jest  man ;  all  the  Fleet 
says  so." 

"Looks  like  justice,  this,  don*t  it?"  Har- 
vey pointed  to  his  outraged  nose. 

•'  Thet  's  nothin'.  Lets  the  shore  blood 
outer  you.  Dad  did  it  for  yer  health.  Say, 
though,  I  can't  have  dealin's  with  a  man  that 
thinks  me  or  dad  or  any  one  on  the  We  're 
Here  *s  a  thief.  We  ain't  any  common 
wharf-end  crowd  by  any  manner  o'  means. 
We  're  fishermen,  an'  we  've  shipped  to- 
gether for  six  years  an'  more.  Don't  you 
make  any  mistake  on  that!  I  told  ye  dad 
don't  let  me  swear.  He  calls  'em  vain  oaths, 
and  pounds  me;  but  ef"I  could  say  what  you 


36  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

said  'baout  your  pap  an'  his  fixin's,  I  *d  say 
that  'baout  your  dollars.  I  dunno  what  was 
in  your  pockets  when  I  dried  your  kit,  fer  I 
did  n't  look  to  see;  but  I  *d  say,  using  the 
very  same  words  ez  you  used  jest  now,  nei- 
ther me  nor  dad  —  an'  we  was  the  only  two 
that  teched  you  after  you  was  brought  aboard 
—  knows  any  thin*  'baout  the  money.  Thet  's 
my  say.     Naow?  " 

The  blood-letting  had  certainly  cleared 
Harvey's  brain,  and  maybe  the  loneliness 
of  the  sea  had  something  to  do  with  it. 
**  That  's  all  right,"  he  said.  Then  he  looked 
down  confusedly.  "'Seems  to  me,  that  for  a 
fellow  just  saved  from  drowning  I  have  n't 
been  over  and  above  grateful,  Dan." 

•'  Well,  you  was  shook  up  and  silly,"  said 
Dan.  **  Anyway,  there  was  only  dad  an*  me 
aboard  to  see  it.     The  cook  he  don't  count." 

"  I  might  have  thought  about  losing  the 
bills  that  way,"  Harvey  said,  half  to  himself, 
"instead  of  calling  everybody  in  sight  a  thief. 
Where  's  your  father  ?  " 

"  In  the  cabin.  What  d'  you  want  o*  him 
again  ?  " 

"  You  *11  see,"  said  Harvey,  and  he  stepped, 
rather  groggily,  for  his  head  was  still  singing, 


\ 


*« CAPTAINS  COURAGEOUS"  39 

to  the  cabin  steps,  where  the  little  ship's  clock 
hung-  in  plain  sight  of  the  wheel.  Troop,  in 
the  chocolate-and-yellow  painted  cabin,  was 
busy  with  a  note-book  and  an  enormous  black 
pencil,  which  he  sucked  hard  from  time  to 
time. 

"  I  have  n't  acted  quite  right,"  said  Har- 
vey, surprised  at  his  own  meekness. 

"What  's  wrong  naow?"  said  the  skipper. 
"Walked  into  Dan,  hev  ye?" 

"  No  ;  it 's  about  you." 

"  I  'm  here  to  listen." 

"  Well,  I  —  I  'm  here  to  take  things  back," 
said  Harvey,  very  quickly.  "When  a  man  's 
saved  from  drowning — -"  he  gulped. 

"  Ey  ?  You  '11  make  a  man  yet  ef  you  go 
on  this  way." 

"  He  ought  n't  begin  by  calling  people 
names." 

"Jest  an'  right — right  an' jest,"  said  Troop, 
with  the  ghost  of  a  dry  smile. 

"  So  I  'm  here  to  say  I  'm  sorry."  Another 
big  gulp. 

Troop  heaved  himself  slowly  off  the  locker 
he  was  sitting  on  and  held  out  an  eleven-inch 
hand.  "  I  mistrusted  't  would  do  you  sights 
o'  good ;  an'  this  shows  I  were  n't  mistook  in 


40  "CAPTAINS  COURAGEOUS" 

my  jedgments."  A  smothered  chuckle  on 
deck  caught  his  ear.  "  I  am  very  seldom 
mistook  in  my  jedgments."  The  eleven-inch 
hand  closed  on  Harvey's,  numbing  it  to  the 
elbow.  "We  '11  put  a  little  more  gristle  to 
that  'fore  we  've  done  with  you,  young  feller ; 
an'  I  don't  think  any  worse  of  ye  fer  anythin' 
thet  's  gone  by.  You  was  n't  fairly  respon- 
sible. Go  right  abaout  your  business  an'  you 
won't  take  no  hurt." 

"  You  're  white,"  said  Dan,  as  Harvey  re- 
gained the  deck,  flushed  to  the  tips  of  his  ears. 

"  I  don't  feel  it,"  said  he. 

•'  I  did  n't  mean  that  way.  I  heard  what 
dad  said.  When  dad  allows  he  don't  think 
the  worse  of  any  man,  dad  's  give  himself 
away.  He  hates  to  be  mistook  in  his  jedg- 
ments too.  Ho  !  ho  !  Onct  dad  has  a  jedg- 
ment,  he  'd  sooner  dip  his  colors  to  the 
British  than  change  it.  I  'm  glad  it  *s  settled 
right  eend  up.  Dad  's  right  when  he  says  he 
can't  take  you  back.  It  's  all  the  livin*  we 
make  here — fishin*.  The  men  '11  be  back  like 
sharks  after  a  dead  whale  in  ha'af  an  hour." 

"What  for?"  said  Harvey. 

"  Supper,  o'  course.  Don't  your  stummick 
tell  you  ?     You  've  a  heap  to  learn." 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS*  41 

"  Guess  I  have,"  said  Harvey,  dolefully, 
looking  at  the  tangle  of  ropes  and  blocks 
overhead. 

'*  She  's  a  daisy,"  said  Dan,  enthusiastically, 
misunderstanding  the  look.  "Wait  till  our 
mainsail  's  bent,  an'  she  walks  home  with  all " 
her  salt  wet.  There  *s  some  work  first, 
though."  He  pointed  down  into  the  dark- 
ness of  the  open  main-hatch  between  the  two 
masts. 

"  What 's  that  for  ?  It  s  all  empty,"  said 
Harvey. 

"  You  an'  me  an*  a  few  more  hev  got  to  fill 
it,"  said  Dan.     "  That 's  where  the  fish  goes." 

"  Alive  ?  "  said  Harvey. 

"Well,  no.  They  're  so  's  to  be  ruther 
dead  —  an*  flat  —  an'  salt.  There  's  a  hun- 
dred hogshead  o'  salt  in  the  bins ;  an*  we 
hain't  more  'n  covered  our  dunnage  to  now." 

"  Where  are  the  fish,  though  ?  " 

"In  the  sea  they  say;  in  the  boats  we 
pray,"  said  Dan,  quoting  a  fisherman's  prov- 
erb. "  You  come  in  last  night  with  'baout 
forty  of  *em." 

He  pointed  to  a  sort  of  wooden  pen  just 
in  front  of  the  quarter-deck. 

"  You   an'  me  we  '11  sluice  that  out  when 


p  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

they  're  through.  'Send  we  '11  hev  full  pens 
to-night !  I  've  seen  her  down  ha'af  a  foot 
with  fish  waitin'  to  clean,  an'  we  stood  to  the 
tables  till  we  was  splittin'  ourselves  instid 
o'  them,  we  was  so  sleepy.  Yes,  they  're 
comin'  in  naow."  Dan  looked  over  the  low 
bulwarks  at  half  a  dozen  dories  rowing  to- 
ward them  over  the  shining,  silky  sea. 

"  I  've  never  seen  the  sea  from  so  low 
down,"  said  Harvey.      "  It  's  fine." 

The  low  sun  made  the  water  all  purple  and 
pinkish,  with  golden  lights  on  the  barrels 
of  the  long  swells,  and  blue  and  green 
mackerel  shades  in  the  hollows.  Each 
schooner  in  sight  seemed  to  be  pulling  her 
dories  towards  her  by  invisible  strings,  and 
the  little  black  figures  in  the  tiny  boats 
pulled  like  clockwork  toys. 

"They  've  struck  on  good,"  said  Dan,  be- 
tween his  half-shut  eyes.  "  Manuel  hain't 
room  fer  another  fish.  Low  ez  a  lily-pad  in 
still  water,  ain't  he  ?  " 

"Which  is  Manuel?  I  don't  see  how  you 
can  tell  'em  'way  off,  as  you  do." 

"  Last  boat  to  the  south'ard.  He  fund 
you  last  night,"  said  Dan,  pointing.  "  Man- 
uel rows  Portugoosey  ;  ye  can't,  mistake  him. 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  43 

East  o*  him  —  he's  a  heap  better  'n  he  rows 

—  is  Pennsylvania.  Loaded  with  saleratus, 
by  the  looks  of  him.  East  o'  him  —  see  how 
pretty  they  string  out  all  along  —  with  the 
humpy  shoulders,  is  Long  Jack.  He  's  a 
Galway  man  inhabitin'  South  Boston,  where 
they  all  live  mostly,  an'  mostly  them  Galway 
men  are  good  in  a  boat.    North,  away  yonder 

—  you  '11  hear  him  tune  up  in  a  minute  —  is 
Tom  Piatt.  Man-o'-war's  man  he  was  on  the 
old  Ohio  —  first  of  our  navy,  he  says,  to  go 
araound  the  Horn.  He  never  talks  of  much 
else,  'cept  when  he  sings,  but  he  has  fair 
fishin'  luck.     There  !     What  did  I  tell  you  ?  " 

A  melodious  bellow  stole  across  the  water 
from  the  northern  dory.  Harvey  heard 
something  about  somebody's  hands  and  feet 
being  cold,  and  then  : 

"  Bring  forth  the  chart,  the  doleful  chart, 
See  where  them  mountings  meet ! 
The  clouds  are  thick  around  their  heads, 
The  mists  around  their  feet." 


**  Full  boat,"  said  Dan,  with  a  chuckle. 
"  If  he  gives  us  *  O  Captain  '  it  's  toppin' 
full. 


44  "CAPTAINS    COURAGEOUS" 

The  bellow  continued : 

"  And  naow  to  thee,  O  Capting, 
Most  earnestly  I  pray, 
That  they  shall  never  bury  me 
In  church  or  cloister  gray." 

"  Double  game  for  Tom  Piatt.  He  '11  tell 
you  all  about  the  old  Ohio  to-morrow.  'See 
that  blue  dory  behind  him  ?  He  's  my  uncle, 
— dad's  own  brother, — an'  ef  there  's  any  bad 
luck  loose  on  the  Banks  she  '11  fetch  up  agin 
Uncle  Salters,  sure.  Look  how  tender  he  's 
rowin'.  I  '11  lay  my  wage  and  share  he  's  the 
only  man  stung  up  to-day — an'  he  's  stung  up 
good." 

"  What  '11  sting  him  ?  "  said  Harvey,  getting 
interested. 

**  Strawberries,  mostly.  Punkins,  some- 
times, an'  sometimes  lemons  an'  cucumbers. 
Yes,  he  's  stung  up  from  his  elbows  down. 
That  man's  luck  's  perfectly  paralyzin'.  Naow 
we  '11  take  a-holt  o'  the  tackles  an'  hist  'em  in. 
Is  it  true  what  you  told  me  jest  now,  that  you 
never  done  a  hand's  turn  o'  work  in  all  your 
born  life?  Must  feel  kinder  awful,  don't 
it?" 

"  I  'm  going  to  try  to  work,  anyway,"  Har- 


«* CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  45 

vey  replied  stoutly.  "  Only  it  's  all  dead 
new." 

"  Lay  a-holt  o'  that  tackle,  then.  Behind 
ye ! " 

Harvey  grabbed  at  a  rope  and  long  iron 
hook  dangling  from  one  of  the  stays  of  the 
mainmast,  while  Dan  pulled  down  another 
that  ran  from  something  he  called  a  "  topping- 
lift,"  as  Manuel  drew  alongside  in  his  loaded 
dory.  The  Portuguese  smiled  a  brilliant 
smile  that  Harvey  learned  to  know  well  later, 
and  with  a  short-handled  fork  began  to  throw 
fish  into  the  pen  on  deck.  "Two  hundred 
and  thirty-one,"  he  shouted. 

"Give  him  the  hook,"  said  Dan,  and  Har- 
vey ran  it  into  Manuel's  hands.  He  slipped 
it  through  a  loop  of  rope  at  the  dory's  bow, 
caught  Dan's  tackle,  hooked  it  to  the  stern- 
becket,  and  clambered  into  the  schooner. 

"  Pull !  "  shouted  Dan,  and  Harvey  pulled, 
astonished  to  find  how  easily  the  dory  rose. 

"  Hold  on,  she  don't  nest  in  the  cross- 
trees  ! "  Dan  laughed ;  and  Harvey  held  on, 
for  the  boat  lay  in  the  air  above  his  head. 

"  Lower  away,"  Dan  shouted,  and  as  Har- 
vey lowered,  Dan  swayed  the  light  boat  with 
one    hand    till    it    landed    softly  just    behind 


46  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

the  mainmast.  "They  don't  weigh  nothin' 
empty.  Thet  was  right  smart  fer  a  passenger. 
There  's  more  trick  to  it  in  a  sea-way." 

"Ah  ha!"  said  Manuel,  holding  out  a 
brown  hand.  "  You  are  some  pretty  well 
now  ?  This  time  last  night  the  fish  they 
fish  for  you.  Now  you  fish  for  fish.  Eh, 
wha-at?  " 

"  I  'm — I  'm  ever  so  grateful,"  Harvey 
stammered,  and  his  unfortunate  hand  stole 
to  his  pocket  once  more,  but  he  remembered 
that  he  had  no  money  to  offer.  When  he 
knew  Manuel  better  the  mere  thought  of  the 
mistake  he  might  have  made  would  cover 
him  with  hot,  uneasy  blushes  in  his  bunk. 

"There  is  no  to  be  thankful  for  to  me/" 
said  Manuel.  "  How  shall  I  leave  you  dreeft, 
dreeft  all  around  the  Banks  ?  Now  you  are 
a  fisherman  —  eh,  wha-at  ?  Ouh  !  Auh  !  " 
He  bent  backward  and  forward  stiffly  from 
the  hips  to  get  the  kinks  out  of  himself 

"  I  have  not  cleaned  boat  to-day.  Too 
busy.  They  struck  on  queek.  Danny,  my 
son,  clean  for  me." 

Harvey  moved  forward  at  once.  Here  was 
something  he  could  do  for  the  man  who  had 
saved  his  life. 


"CAPTAINS    COURAGEOUS"  47 

Dan  threw  him  a  swab,  and  he  leaned  over 
the  dory,  mopping  up  the  sHme  ckimsily,  but 
with  great  good- will.  "  Hike  out  the  foot- 
boards;  they  slide  in  them  grooves,"  said 
Dan.  "  Swab  'em  an'  lay  'em  down.  Never 
let  a  foot-board  jam.  Ye  may  want  her  bad 
some  day.      Here  's  Long  Jack." 

A  stream  of  glittering  fish  flew  into  the 
pen  from  a  dory  alongside. 

"  Manuel,  you  take  the  tackle.  I  '11  fix 
the  tables.  Harvey,  clear  Manuel's  boat. 
Long  Jack  's  nestin'  on  the  top  of  her." 

Harvey  looked  up  from  his  swabbing  at 
the  bottom  of  another  dory  just  above  his 
head. 

"Jest  like  the  Injian  puzzle-boxes,  ain't 
-they  ? "  said  Dan,  as  the  one  boat  dropped 
into  the  other. 

"  Takes  to  ut  like  a  duck  to  water,"  said 
Long  Jack,  a  grizzly-chinned,  long-lipped 
Galway  man,  bending  to  and  fro  exactly  as 
Manuel  had  done.  Disko  in  the  cabin 
growled  up  the  hatchway,  and  they  could 
hear  him   suck   his  pencil. 

"Wan  hunder  an'  forty-nine  an'  a  half — 
bad  luck  to  ye,  Discobolus  !  "  said  Long  Jack. 
"  I  'm  murderin'  meself  to  fill  your  pockuts. 


48  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

Slate  ut  for  a  bad  catch.  The  Portugee  has 
bate  me." 

Whack  came  another  dory  alongside,  and 
more  fish  shot  into  the  pen. 

"Two  hundred  and  three.  Let 's  look  at  the 
passenger ! "  The  speaker  was  even  larger 
than  the  Galway  man,  and  his  face  was  made 
curious  by  a  purple  cut  running  slantways 
from  his  left  eye  to  the  right  corner  of  his 
mouth. 

Not  knowing  what  else  to  do,  Harvey 
swabbed  each  dory  as  it  came  down,  pulled 
out  the  foot-boards,  and  laid  them  in  the  bot- 
tom of  the  boat. 

"  He  's  caught  on  good,"  said  the  scarred 
man,  who  was  Tom  Piatt,  watching  him  criti- 
cally. "  There  are  two  ways  o'  doin'  every- 
thing. One's  fisher- fashion  —  any  end  first 
an'  a  slippery  hitch  over  all — an'  the  other's — " 

"What  we  did  on  the  old  Ohio T'  Dan 
interrupted,  brushing  into  the  knot  of  men 
with  a  long  board  on  legs.  *'  Git  out  o'  here, 
Tom  Piatt,  an'  leave  me  fix  the  tables." 

He  jammed  one  end  of  the  board  into  two 
nicks  in  the  bulwarks,  kicked  out  the  leg,  and 
ducked  just  in  time  to  avoid  a  swinging  blow 
from  the  man-o'-war's  man. 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  49 

"An*  they  did  that  on  the  Ohio,  too, 
Danny.     See  ?  "  said  Tom  Piatt,  laughing. 

'*  Guess  they  was  swivel-eyed,  then,  fer  it 
did  n't  git  home,  and  I  know  who  *11  find  his 
boots  on  the  main-truck  ef  he  don't  leave  us 
alone.  Haul  ahead !  I  'm  busy,  can't  ye 
see?" 

**  Danny,  ye  lie  on  the  cable  an'  sleep  all 
day,"  said  Long  Jack.  "  You  're  the  hoight 
av  impidence,  an'  I  'm  persuaded  ye  '11  corrupt 
our  supercargo  in  a  week." 

"  His  name  's  Harvey,"  said  Dan,  waving 
two  strangely  shaped  knives,  "  an'  he  '11  be 
worth  five  of  any  Sou'  Boston  clam-digger 
'fore  long."  He  laid  the  knives  tastefully  on 
the  table,  cocked  his  head  on  one  side,  and 
admired  the  effect. 

"/think  it 's  forty-two,"  said  a  small  voice 
overside,  and  there  was  a  roar  of  laughter  as 
another  voice  answered,  "  Then  my  luck  's 
turned  fer  onct,  'caze  I  'm  forty-five,  though  I 
be  stung  outer  all  shape." 

"  Forty-two  or  forty-five.  I  've  lost  count," 
the  small  voice  said. 

"  It  's  Penn  an'  Uncle  Salters  caountin' 
catch.  This  beats  the  circus  any  day,"  said 
Dan.     "  Jest  look  at  'em !  " 


JO  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

"  Come  in — come  in  !  "  roared  Long  Jack. 
"  It  *s  wet  out  yondher,  children." 

"  Forty-two,  ye  said."  This  was  Uncle 
Salters. 

"  I  '11  count  again,  then,"  the  voice  replied 
meekly. 

The  two  dories  swung  together  and  bunted 
into  the  schooner's  side. 

"  Patience  o'  Jerusalem  !  "  snapped  Uncle 
Salters,  backing  water  with  a  splash.  *'  What 
possest  a  farmer  like  you  to  set  foot  in  a  boat 
beats  me.     You  've  nigh  stove  me  all  up." 

*'  I  am  sorry,  Mr.  Salters.  I  came  to  sea 
on  account  of  nervous  dyspepsia.  You  ad- 
vised me,   I  think." 

"  You  an'  your  nervis  dyspepsy  be  drowned 
in  the  Whale-hole,"  roared  Uncle  Salters,  a 
fat  and  tubly  little  man.  "  You  're  comin' 
down  on  me  agin.  Did  ye  say  forty-two  or 
forty-five  ?  " 

'*  I  've  forgotten,  Mr.  Salters.    Let*s  count." 

"  Don't  see  as  it  could  be  forty-five.  /  'm 
forty-five,"  said  Uncle  Salters.  "You  count 
keerful,  Penn." 

Disko  Troop  came  out  of  the  cabin.  "Sal- 
ters, you  pitch  your  fish  in  naow  at  once,"  he 
said  in  the  tone  of  authority. 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  51 

**  Don't  spile  the  catch,  dad,"  Dan  mur- 
mured.    "  Them  two  are  on'y  jest  beginnin'." 

"  Mother  av  delight !  He  's  forkin'  them 
wan  by  wan,"  howled  Long  Jack,  as  Uncle 
Salters  got  to  work  laboriously ;  the  little 
man  in  the  other  dory  counting  a  line  of 
notches  on  the  gunwale. 

**  That  was  last  week's  catch,"  he  said, 
looking  up  plaintively,  his  forefinger  where 
he  had  left  off. 

Manuel  nudged  Dan,  who  darted  to  the 
after- tackle,  and,  leaning  far  overside,  slipped 
the  hook  into  the  stern -rope  as  Manuel  made 
her  fast  forward.  The  others  pulled  gallantly 
and  swung  the  boat  in — man,  fish,  and  all. 

"One,  two,  four  —  nine,"  said  Tom  Piatt, 
counting  with  a  practised  eye.  "  Forty- 
seven.  Penn,  you  're  it !  "  Dan  let  the  after- 
tackle  run,  and  slid  him  out  of  the  stern  on  to 
the  deck  amid  a  torrent  of  his  own  fish. 

"  Hold  on  !  "  roared  Uncle  Salters,  bobbing 
by  the  waist.  "  Hold  on,  I  'm  a  bit  mixed  in 
my  caount." 

He  had  no  time  to  protest,  but  was  hove 
inboard  and  treated  like  "  Pennsylvania." 

**  Forty-one,"  said  Tom  Piatt.  "  Beat  by  a 
farmer,  Salters.     An'  you  sech  a  sailor,  too  '  " 


52  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

"  'T  were  n't  fair  caount,"  said  he,  stumbling 
out  of  the  pen;  "an'  I  'm  stung  up  all  to 
pieces." 

His  thick  hands  were  puffy  and  mottled 
purply  white. 

**  Some  folks  will  find  strawberry-bottom," 
said  Dan,  addressing  the  newly  risen  moon, 
"  ef  they  hev  to  dive  fer  it,  seems  to  me." 

"An'  others,"  said  Uncle  Salters,  "eats  the 
fat  o'  the  land  in  sloth,  an'  mocks  their  own 
blood-kin." 

"  Seat  ye  !  Seat  ye  !  "  a  voice  Harvey  had 
not  heard  called  from  the  foc'sle.  Disko  Troop, 
Tom  Piatt,  Long  Jack,  and  Salters  went  for- 
ward on  the  word.  Little  Penn  bent  above 
his  square  deep-sea  reel,  and  the  tangled  cod- 
lines;  Manuel  lay  down  full  length  on  the  deck, 
and  Dan  dropped  into  the  hold,  where  Harvey 
heard  him  banging  casks  with  a  hammer. 

"  Salt,"  he  said,  returning.  "  Soon  as  we  're 
through  supper  we  git  to  dressing-down. 
You  '11  pitch  to  dad.  Tom  Piatt  an'  dad  they 
stow  together,  an'  you  '11  hear  'em  arguin'. 
We  *re  second  ha'af,  you  an'  me  an'  Manuel 
an'  Penn  —  the  youth  an'  beauty  o'  the  boat." 

"What  's  the  good  of  that?"  said  Harvey. 
"  I  'm  hungry." 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  53 

"  They  '11  be  through  in  a  minute.  Snfif ! 
She  smells  good  to-night.  Dad  ships  a  good 
cook  ef  he  do  suffer  with  his  brother.  It  's  a 
full  catch  to-day,  ain  't  it  ?  "  He  pointed  at  the 
pens  piled  high  with  cod.  "What  water  did 
ye  hev,  Manuel  ?  " 

**  Twenty-fife  father,"  said  the  Portuguese, 
sleepily.  "  They  strike  on  good  an'  queek. 
Some  day  I  show  you,  Harvey." 

The  moon  was  beginning  to  walk  on  the 
^till  sea  before  the  elder  men  came  aft.  The 
cook  had  no  need  to  cry  "  second  half"  Dan 
and  Manuel  were  down  the  hatch  and  at  table 
ere  Tom  Piatt,  last  and  most  deliberate  of  the 
elders,  had  finished  wiping  his  mouth  with 
the  back  of  his  hand.  Harvey  followed  Penn, 
and  sat  down  before  a  tin  pan  of  cod's  tongues 
and  sounds,  mixed  with  scraps  of  pork  and 
fried  potato,  a  loaf  of  hot  bread,  and  some 
black  and  powerful  coffee.  Hungry  as  they 
were,  they  waited  while  "  Pennsylvania"  sol- 
emnly asked  a  blessing.  Then  they  stoked 
in  silence  till  Dan  drew  breath  over  his  tin 
cup  and  demanded  of  Harvey  how  he  felt. 

"  'Most  full,  but  there  's  just  room  for  an- 
other piece." 

The  cook  was  a  huge,  jet-black  negro,  and, 


54  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS'* 

unlike  all  the  negroes  Harvey  had  met,  did 
not  talk,  contenting  himself  with  smiles  and 
dumb-show  invitations  to  eat  more. 

"  See,  Harvey,"  said  Dan,  rapping  with 
his  fork  on  the  table,  "  it  's  jest  as  I  said. 
The  young  an'  handsome  men  —  like  me  an' 
Pennsy  an'  you  an'  Manuel  —  we  're  second 
ha'af,  an'  we  eats  when  the  first  ha'af  are 
through.  They  're  the  old  fish ;  and  they  're 
mean  an'  humpy,  an'  their  stummicks  has 
to  be  humored ;  so  they  come  first,  which 
they  don't  deserve.     Ain't  that  so,  doctor  ?  " 

The  cook  nodded. 

*'  Can't  he  talk  ?  "  said  Harvey  in  a  whisper. 

"'Nough  to  git  along.  Not  much  o'  any- 
thing we  know.  His  natural  tongue  's  kinder 
curious.  Comes  from  the  innards  of  Cape  Bre- 
ton, he  does,  where  the  farmers  speak  home- 
made Scotch.  Cape  Breton  's  full  o'  niggers 
whose  folk  run  in  there  durin'  aour  war,  an' 
they  talk  like  the  farmers  —  all  huffy-chuffy." 

"  That  is  not  Scotch,"  said  "  Pennsylvania." 
**  That  is  Gaelic.     So  I  read  in  a  book." 

"  Penn  reads  a  heap.  Most  of  what  he 
says  is  so — 'cep' when  it  comes  to  a  caount 
o*  fish  —  eh  ?  " 

"  Does  your  father  just  let  them  say  how 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  55 

many  they  've  caught  without  checking  them?" 
said  Harvey. 

"  Why,  yes.  Where  *s  the  sense  of  a  man 
lyin'  fer  a  few  old  cod  ?  " 

"Was  a  man  once  lied  for  his  catch,"  Man- 
uel put  in.  "  Lied  every  day.  Fife,  ten, 
twenty-fife  more  fish  than  come  he  say  there 
was. 

"Where  was  that?"  said  Dan.  "None  o* 
aour  folk." 

"  Frenchman  of  Anguille." 

"  Ah  !  Them  West  Shore  Frenchmen  don't 
caount  anyway.  Stands  to  reason  they  can't 
caount.  Ef  you  run  acrost  any  of  their  soft 
hooks,  Harvey,  you  '11  know  why,"  said  Dan, 
with  an  awful  contempt. 

"  Always  more  and  never  less, 
Every  time  we  come  to  dress,'* 

Long  Jack  roared  down  the  hatch,  and  the 
"  second  ha'af "  scrambled  up  at  once. 

The  shadow  of  the  masts  and  rigging,  with 
the  never- furled  riding-sail,  rolled  to  and  fro 
on  the  heaving  deck  in  the  moonlight;  and 
the  pile  of  fish  by  the  stern  shone  like  a  dump 
of  fluid  silver.  In  the  hold  there  w6re  tramp- 
lings  and  rumblings  where  Disko  Troop  and 


S6  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

Tom  Piatt  moved  among  the  salt-bins.  Dan 
passed  Harvey  a  pitchfork,  and  led  him  to 
the  inboard  end  of  the  rough  table,  where 
Uncle  Salters  was  drumming  impatiently  with 
a  knife-haft.  A  tub  of  salt  water  lay  at  his 
feet.  , 

"  You  pitch  to  dad  an'  Tom  Piatt  down  the 
hatch,  an'  take  keer  Uncle  Salters  don't  cut 
yer  eye  out,"  said  Dan,  swinging  himself  into 
the  hold.    "  I  '11  pass  salt  below." 

Penn  and  Manuel  stood  knee  deep  among 
cod  in  the  pen,  flourishing  drawn  knives. 
Long  Jack,  a  basket  at  his  feet  and  mittens 
on  his  hands,  faced  Uncle  Salters  at  the  table, 
and  Harvey  stared  at  the  pitchfork  and  the  tub. 

"Hi!"  shouted  Manuel,  stooping  to  the 
fish,  and  bringing  one  up  with  a  finger  under 
its  gill  and  a  finger  in  its  eye.  He  laid  it  on 
the  edge  of  the  pen ;  the  knife-blade  glim- 
mered with  a  sound  of  tearing,  and  the  fish, 
slit  from  throat  to  vent,  with  a  nick  on  either 
side  of  the  neck,  dropped  at  Long  Jack's 
feet. 

"  Hi !  "  said  Long  Jack,  with  a  scoop  of  his 
mittened  hand.  The  cod's  liver  dropped  in 
the  basket.  Another  wrench  and  scoop  sent 
the  head  and  offal  flying,  and  the  empty  fish 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  57 

slid  across  to  Uncle  Salters,  who  snorted 
fiercely.  There  was  another  sound  of  tear- 
ing, the  backbone  flew  over  the  bulwarks,  and 
the  fish,  headless,  gutted,  and  open,  splashed 
in  the  tub,  sending  the  salt  water  into  Har-_ 
vey's  astonished  mouth.  After  the  first  yell, 
the  men  were  silent.  The  cod  moved  along 
as  though  they  were  alive,  and  long  ere  Har- 
vey had  ceased  wondering  at  the  miraculous 
dexterity  of  it  all,  his  tub  was  full. 

**  Pitch  ! "  grunted  Uncle  Salters,  without 
turning  his  head,  and  Harvey  pitched  the  fish 
by  twos  and  threes  down  the  hatch. 

"  Hi !  Pitch  'em  bunchy,"  shouted  Dan. 
**  Don't  scatter !  Uncle  Salters  is  the  best 
splitter  in  the  fleet.  Watch  him  mind  his 
book ! " 

Indeed,  it  looked  a  little  as  though  the 
round  uncle  were  cutting  magazine  pages 
against  time.  Manuel's  body,  cramped  over 
from  the  hips,  stayed  like  a  statue ;  but  his 
long  arms  grabbed  the  fish  without  ceasing. 
Little  Penn  toiled  valiantly,  but  it  was  easy 
to  see  he  was  weak.  Once  or  twice  Manuel 
found  time  to  help  him  without  breaking  the 
chain  of  supplies,  and  once  Manuel  howled 
because  he  had  caught  his  finger  in  a  French- 


58  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

man's  hook.  These  hooks  are  made  of  soft 
metal,  to  be  rebent  after  use ;  but  the  cod 
very  often  get  away  with  them  and  are  hooked 
again  elsewhere ;  and  that  is  one  of  the  many 
reasons  why  the  Gloucester  boats  despise  the 
Frenchmen. 

Down  below,  the  rasping  sound  of  rough 
salt  rubbed  on  rough  flesh  sounded  like  the 
whirring  of  a  grindstone — a  steady  undertune 
to  the  "  click-nick  "  of  the  knives  in  the  pen ; 
the  wrench  and  schloop  of  torn  heads,  dropped 
liver,  and  flying  offal ;  the  "  caraaah  "  of  Un- 
cle Salters's  knife  scooping  away  backbones ; 
and  the  flap  of  wet,  opened  bodies  falling  Into 
the  tub. 

At  the  end  of  an  hour  Harvey  would  have 
given  the  world  to  rest ;  for  fresh,  wet  cod 
weigh  more  than  you  would  think,  and  his 
back  ached  with  the  steady  pitching.  But  he 
felt  for  the  first  time  In  his  life  that  he  was 
one  of  a  working  gang  of  men,  took  pride  In 
^the  thought,  and  held  on  sullenly. 

*'  Knife  oh  1 "  shouted  Uncle  Salters  at  last. 
Penn  doubled  up,  gasping  among  the  fish, 
Manuel  bowed  back  and  forth  to  supple  him- 
self, and  Long  Jack  leaned  over  the  bulwarks. 
The    cook    appeared,    noiseless    as    a    black 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  59 

shadow,  collected  a  mass  of  backbones  and 
heads,  and  retreated. 

"  Blood-ends  for  breakfast  an*  head-chow- 
der," said  Long  Jack,  smacking  his  lips. 

**  Knife  oh  !  "  repeated  Uncle  Salters,  wav- 
ing the  flat,  curved  splitter's  weapon. 

•'  Look  by  your  foot,  Harve,"  cried  Dan 
below. 

Harvey  saw  half  a  dozen  knives  stuck  in  a 
cleat  in  the  hatch  combing.  He  dealt  these 
around,  taking  over  the  dulled  ones. 

"  Water  !  "  said  Disko  Troop. 

"  Scuttle-butt  's  for'ard  an'  the  dipper  's 
alongside.     Hurry,  Harve,"  said  Dan. 

He  was  back  in  a  minute  with  a  big  dipperful 
of  stale  brown  water  which  tasted  like  nectar, 
and  loosed  the  jaws  of  Disko  and  Tom  Piatt. 

"These  are  cod,"  said  Disko.  "They  ain't 
Damarskus  figs,  Tom  Piatt,  nor  yet  silver 
bars.  I  've  told  you  that  every  single  time 
sence  we  Ve  sailed  together." 

"  A  matter  o'  seven  seasons,"  returned  Tom 
Piatt  coolly.  "  Good  stowin  's  good  stowin'  all 
the  same,  an'  there  's  a  right  an'  a  wrong  way 
o'  stowin'  ballast  even.  If  you  'd  ever  seen 
four  hundred  ton  o'  iron  set  into  the  — " 

"Hi !  "    With  a  yell  from  Manuel  the  work 


So  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

began  again,  and  never  stopped  till  the  pen 
was  empty.  The  instant  the  last  fish  was 
down,  Disko  Troop  rolled  aft  to  the  cabin 
with  his  brother;  Manuel  and  Long  Jack 
went  forward;  Tom  Piatt  only  waited  long 
enough  to  slide  home  the  hatch  ere  he  too 
disappeared.  In  half  a  minute  Harvey  heard 
deep  snores  in  the  cabin,  and  he  was  staring 
blankly  at  Dan  and  Penn. 

"  I  did  a  little  better  that  time,  Danny," 
said  Penn,  whose  eyelids  were  heavy  with 
sleep.  "  But  I  think  it  is  my  duty  to  help 
clean.'' 

"'Would  n't  hev  your  conscience  fer  a  thou- 
sand quintal,"  said  Dan.  "Turn  in,  Penn. 
You  've  no  call  to  do  boy's  work.  Draw  a 
bucket,  Harvey.  Oh,  Penn,  dump  these  in 
the  gurry-butt  'fore  you  sleep.  Kin  you  keep 
awake  that  long  ?  " 

Penn  took  up  the  heavy  basket  offish-livers, 
emptied  them  into  a  cask  with  a  hinged  top 
lashed  by  the  foc'sle  ;  then  he  too  dropped 
out  of  sight  in  the  cabin. 

"  Boys  clean  up  after  dressin'  down,  an' 
first  watch  in  ca'am  weather  is  boy's  watch  on 
the  IVe  're  //ere."  Dan  sluiced  the  pen  .  i- 
ergetically,  unshipped  the  table,  set  it  up 


*'CA  ^TAINS   COURAGEOUS"  6i 

dry  in  the  moonlight,  ran  the  red  knife-blades 
through  a  wad  of  oakum,  and  began  to  sharpen 
them  on  a  tiny  grindstone,  as  Harvey  threw 
offal  and  backbones  overboard  under  his  di- 
rection. 

At  the  first  splash  a  silvery-white  ghost 
rose  bolt  upright  from  the  oily  water  and 
sighed  a  weird  whistling  sigh.  Harvey  started 
back  with  a  shout,  but  Dan  only  laughed. 
"  Grampus,"  said  he.  "  Beggirt'  fer  fish-heads. 
They  up-eend  thet  way  when  they  're  hun- 
gry. Breath  on  him  like  the  doleful  tombs, 
hain't  he  ? "  A  horrible  stench  of  decayed 
fish  filled  the  air  as  the  pillar  of  white  sank, 
and  the  water  bubbled  oilily.  "  Hain't  ye 
never  seen  a  grampus  up-eend  before  ?  You  '11 
see  'em  by  hundreds  'fore  ye  're  through.  Say, 
it  's  good  to  hev  a  boy  aboard  again.  Otto 
was  too  old,  an'  a  Dutchy  at  that.  Him  an' 
me  we  fought  consid'ble.  'Would  n't  ha'  keered 
fer  thet  ef  he  'd  hed  a  Christian  tongue  in  his 
head.     Sleepy?" 

"  Dead  sleepy,"  said  Harvey,  nodding  for- 
ward. 

"  Must  n't  sleep  on  watch.  Rouse  up  an* 
se'.?  ef  our  anchor-light  *s  bright  an'  shinin'. 
"^-"■:i  're  on  watch  now,    Harve." 


62  "CAPTAINS   COURAGECUS" 

*•  Pshaw  !  What  *s  to  hurt  us  ?  'Bright  's 
day.     Sn — orrr ! " 

'^•' Jest  when  things  happen,  dad  says.  Fine 
weather  's  good  sleepin',  an'  'fore  you  know, 
mebbe,  you  're  cut  in  two  by  a  Hner,  an'  sev- 
enteen brass-bound  officers,  ail  gen'eimen,  liit 
their  hand  to  it  that  your  lights  was  aout  an' 
there  was  a  thick  fog.  Harve,  I  've  kinder 
took  to  you,  but  ef  you  nod  onct  more  I  '11  lay 
into  you  with  a  rope's  end." 
-  The  moon,  who  sees  many  strange  things 
on  the  Banks,  looked  down  on  a  slim  youth  in 
knickerbockers  and  a  red  jersey,  staggering 
around  the  cluttered  decks  of  a  seventy-ton 
schooner,  while  behind  him,  waving  a  knotted 
rope,  walked,  after  the  manner  of  an  execu- 
tioner, a  boy  who  yawned  and  nodded  be- 
tween the  blows  he  dealt. 

The  lashed  wheel  groaned  and  kicked 
softly,  the  riding-sail  slatted  a  Tittle  in  the 
shifts  of  the  light  wind,  the  windlass  creaked, 
and  the  miserable  procession  continued.  Har- 
vey expostulated,  threatened,  whimpered,  and 
at  last  wept  outright,  while  Dan,  the  words 
clotting  on  his  tongue,  spoke  of  the  beauty 
of  watchfulness  and  slashed  away  with  the 
rope's  end,  punishing  the  dories  as  often  as 


"CAPTAINS  COURAGEOUS"  63 

he  hit  Harvey.  At  last  the  clock  in  the  cabin 
struck  ten,  and  upon  the  tenth  stroke  little 
Penn  crept  on  deck.  He  found  two  boys  in 
two  tumbled  heaps  side  by  side  on  the  main 
hatch,  so  deeply  asleep  that  he  actually  rolled 
them  to  their  berths. 


CHAPTER   III 

IT  was  the  forty-fathom  slumber  that  clears 
the  soul  and  eye  and  heart,  and  sends  you 
to  breakfast  ravening.  They  emptied  a  big 
tin  dish  of  juicy  fragments  of  fish  —  the  blood- 
ends  the  cook  had  collected  overnight.  They 
cleaned  up  the  plates  and  pans  of  the  elder 
mess,  who  were  out  fishing,  sliced  pork  for 
the  midday  meal,  swabbed  down  the  foc'sle, 
filled  the  lamps,  drew  coal  and  water  for  the 
cook,  and  investigated  the  fore-hold,  where 
the  boat's  stores  were  stacked.  It  was  an- 
other perfect  day  —  soft,  mild,  and  clear  ;  and 
Harvey  breathed  to  the  very  bottom  of  his 
lungs. 

More  schooners  had  crept  up  in  the  night, 
and  the  long  blue  seas  w^re  full  of  sails  and 
dories.  Far  away  on  the  horizon,  the  smoke 
of  some  liner,  her  hull  invisible,  smudged 
the  blue,  and  to  eastward  a  big  ship's  top- 
gallant sails,  just  lifting,  made  a  square  nick 

64 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  65 

in  it.  Disko  Troop  was  smoking  by  the  roof 
of  the  cabin — one  eye  on  the  craft  around, 
and  the  other  on  the  httle  fly  at  the  main- 
mast-head. 

"  When  dad  kerflummoxes  that  way,"  said 
Dan  in  a  whisper,  "  he  's  doin'  some  high- 
hne  thinkin'  fer  all  hands.  I  '11  lay  my  wage 
an'  share  we  '11  make  berth  soon.  Dad  he 
knows  the  cod,  an'  the  fleet  they  know  dad 
knows.  'See  'em  comin'  up  one  by  one,  look- 
in'  fer  nothin'  in  particular,  o'  course,  but 
scrowgin'  on  us  all  the  time  ^  There  's  the 
Prince  Leboo ;  she  's  a  Chat- ham  boat. 
She  's  crep'  up  sence  last  night.  An'  see 
that  big  one  with  a  patch  in  her  foresail  an' 
a  new  jib?  She  's  the  Carrie  Pit77ian  from 
West  Chat-ham.  She  won't  keep  her  can- 
vas long  onless  her  luck  's  changed  since 
last  season.  She  don't  do  much  'cep'  drift. 
There  ain't  an  anchor  made  '11  hold  her. 
.  .  .  When  the  smoke  puffs  up  in  little  rings 
like  that,  dad  's  studyin'  the  fish.  Ef  we 
speak  to  him  now,  he  '11  git  mad.  Las'  tim.e 
I  did,  he  jest  took  an'  hove  a  boot  at  me." 

Disko  Troop  stared  forward,  the  pipe  be- 
tween his  teeth,  with  eyes  that  saw  nothing. 
As  his  son  said,  he  was  studying  the  fish  — 


66  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

pitting  his  knowledge  and  experience  on  the 
Banks  against  the  roving  cod  in  his  own  sea. 
He  accepted  the  presence  of  the  inquisitive 
schooners  on  the  horizon  as  a  compHment  to 
his  powers.  But  now  that  it  was  paid,  he 
wished  to  draw  away  and  make  his  berth 
alone,  till  it  was  time  to  go  up  to  the  Virgin 
and  fish  in  the  streets  of  that  roaring  town 
upon  the  waters.  So  Disko  Troop  thought 
of  recent  weather,  and  gales,  currents,  food- 
supplies,  and  other  domestic  arrangements, 
from  the  point  of  view  of  a  twenty-pound  cod; 
was,  in  fact,  for  an  hour  a  cod  himself,  and 
looked  remarkably  like  one.  Then  he  re- 
moved the  pipe  from  his  teeth. 

"  Dad,"  said  Dan,  "  we've  done  our  chores. 
Can't  we  go  overside  a  piece?  It  's  good 
catchin'  weather." 

"  Not  in  that  cherry-colored  rig  ner  them 
ha'af-baked  brown  shoes.  Give  him  suthin' 
fit  to  wear." 

"  Dad's  pleased  —  that  settles  it,"  said  Dan, 
delightedly,  dragging  Harvey  into  the  cabin, 
while  Troop  pitched  a  key  down  the  steps. 
"  Dad  keeps  my  spare  rig  where  he  kin  over- 
haul it,  'cause  ma  sez  I  'm  keerless."  He 
rummaged  through  a  locker,  and  in  less  than 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  67 

three  minutes  Harvey  was  adorned  with  fish- 
erman's rubber  boots  that  came  half  up  his 
thigh,  a  heavy  bhie  jersey  well  darned  at  the 
elbows,  a  pair  of  nippers,  and  a  sou'wester. 

"  Naow  ye  look  somethin'  like,"  said  Dan. 
"  Hurry ! " 

"Keep  nigh  an'  handy,"  said  Troop,  "an' 
don't  go  visitin'  raound  the  fleet.  Ef  any  one 
asks  you  what  I  'm  cal'latin'  to  do,  speak  the 
truth  —  fer  ye  don't  know." 

A  little  red  dory,  labeled  Hattie  S.,  lay 
astern  of  the  schooner.  Dan  hauled  in  the 
painter,  and  dropped  lightly  on  to  the  bottom 
boards,  while  Harvey  tumbled  clumsily  after. 

"That  's  no  way  o'  gettin'  into  a  boat," 
said  Dan.  "  Ef  there  was  any  sea  you  'd  go 
to  the  bottom,  sure.  You  got  to  learn  to 
meet  her." 

Dan  fitted  the  thole-pins,  took  the  forward 
thwart,  and  watched  Harvey's  work.  The 
boy  had  rowed,  in  a  lady-like  fashion,  on  the 
Adirondack  ponds;  but  there  is  a  difference 
between  squeaking  pins  and  well-balanced 
rullocks  —  light  sculls  and  stubby,  eight-foot 
sea-oars.  They  stuck  in  the  gentle  swell, 
and  Harvey  grunted. 

"  Short !    Row  short !  "  said  Dan.    "  Ef  you 


68  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

cramp  your  oar  in  any  kind  o'  sea  you  're 
liable  to  turn  her  over.  Ain't  she  a  daisy? 
Mine,  too." 

The  little  dory  was  specklessly  clean.  In 
her  bows  lay  a  tiny  anchor,  two  jugs  of  water, 
and  some  seventy  fathoms  of  thin,  brown 
dory-roding.  A  tin  dinner-horn  rested  in 
cleats  just  under  Harvey's  right  hand,  beside 
an  ugly-looking  maul,  a  short  gaff,  and  a 
shorter  wooden  stick.  A  couple  of  lines,  with 
very  heavy  leads  and  double  cod-hooks,  all 
neatly  coiled  on  square  reels,  were  stuck  in 
their  place  by  the  gunwale. 

"Where  's  the  sail  and  mast?"  said  Har- 
vey, for  his  hands  were  beginning  to  blister. 

Dan  chuckled.  "  Ye  don't  sail  fishin'- 
dories  much.  Ye  pull ;  but  ye  need  n't 
pull  so  hard.  Don't  you  wish  you  owned 
her?" 

"Well,  I  guess  my  father  might  give  me 
one  or  two  if  I  asked  'em,"  Harvey  replied. 
He  had  been  too  busy  to  think  much  of  his 
family  till  then. 

"That  's  so.  I  forgot  your  dad  's  a  mil- 
lionaire. You  don't  act  millionary  any, 
naow.  But  a  dory  an'  craft  an'  gear  "  —  Dan 
spoke    as   though   she   were    a  whaleboat  — 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  69 

"  costs  a  heap.  Think  your  dad  'u'd  give 
you  one  fer  —  fer  a  pet  hke  ?  '* 

"  Should  n't  wonder.  It  would  be  'most 
the  only  thing  I  have  n't  stuck  him  for  yet." 

"  'Must  be  an  expensive  kinder  kid  to  home. 
Don't  slitheroo  thet  way,  Harve.  Short  's 
the  trick,  because  no  sea  's  ever  dead  still, 
an'  the  swells  '11  —  " 

Crack  !  The  loom  of  the  oar  kicked  Harvey 
under  the  chin  and  knocked  him  backwards. 

"  That  was  what  I  was  goin'  to  say.  I  hed 
to  learn  too,  but  /  was  n't  more  than  eight 
years  old  when  I  got  my  schoolin'." 

Harvey  regained  his  seat  with  aching  jaws 
and  a  frown. 

"  No  good  gettin'  mad  at  things,  dad  says. 
It  's  our  own  fault  ef  we  can't  handle  'em,  he 
says.  Le'  's  try  here.  Manuel  '11  give  us 
the  water." 

The  "Portugee"  was  rocking  fully  a  mile 
away,  but  when  Dan  up-ended  an  oar  he 
waved  his  left  arm  three  times. 

"  Thirty  fathom,"  said  Dan,  stringing  a 
salt  clam  on  to  the  hook.  "  Over  with  the 
doughboys.  Bait  same  's  I  do,  Harve,  an' 
don't  snarl  your  reel." 

Dan's  line  was  out  long  before  Harvey  had 

6 


70  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

mastered  the  mystery  of  baiting  and  heaving 
out  the  leads.  The  dory  drifted  along  easily. 
It  was  not  worth  while  to  anchor  till  they 
were  sure  of  sjood  o-round. 

"Here  we  come!"  Dan  shouted,  and  a 
shower  of  spray  rattled  on  Harvey's  shoul- 
ders as  a  big  cod  flapped  and  kicked  along- 
side. "  Muckle,  Harvey,  muckle !  Under 
your  hand  !     Quick  !  " 

Evidently  "muckle"  could  not  be  the  din- 
ner-horn, so  Harvey  passed  over  the  maul, 
and  Dan  scientifically  stunned  the  fish  before 
he  pulled  it  inboard,  and  wrenched  out  the 
hook  with  the  short  wooden  stick  he  called  a 
"  gob-stick."  Then  Harvey  felt  a  tug,  and 
pulled  up  zealously. 

**  Why,  these  are  strawberries ! "  he  shouted. 
"  Look ! " 

The  hook  had  fouled  among  a  bunch  of 
strawberries,  red  on  one  side  and  white  on  the 
other — perfect  reproductions  of  the  land  fruit, 
except  that  there  were  no  leaves,  and  the  stem 
was  all  pipy  and  slimy. 

"  Don't  tech  'em  !     Slat  *em  off.     Don't — " 

The  warning  came  too  late.  Harvey  had 
picked  them  from  the  hook,  and  was  admiring 
them. 


"CAPTAINS    COURAGEOUS"  71 

"  Ouch  !  "  he  cried,  for  his  fingers  throbbed 
as  though  he  had  grasped  many  nettles. 

"  Naow  ye  know  what  strawberry-bottom 
means.  Nothin'  'cep'  fish  should  be  teched 
with  the  naked  fingers,  dad  says.  Slat  'em 
off  agin  the  gunnel,  an'  bait  up,  Harve. 
Lookin'  won't  help  any.  It  's  all  in  the 
wages." 

Harvey  smiled  at  the  thought  of  his  ten 
and  a  half  dollars  a  month,  and  wondered 
what  his  mother  would  say  if  she  could  see 
him  hanging  over  the  edge  of  a  fishing-dory 
in  mid-ocean.  She  suffered  agonies  when- 
ever  he  went  out  on  Saranac  Lake  ;  and,  by 
the  way,  Harvey  remembered  distinctly  that 
he  used  to  laugh  at  her  anxieties.  Suddenly 
the  line  flashed  through  his  hand,  stinging 
even  through  the  "  nippers,"  the  woolen  circ- 
lets supposed  to  protect  it. 

"  He  's  a  logy.  Give  him  room  accordin' 
to  his  strength,"  cried  Dan.      "  I  '11  help  ye." 

"No,  you  won't,"  Harvey  snapped,  as  he 
hung  on  to  the  line.  "It  's  my  first  fish. 
Is  —  is  it  a  whale?  " 

**  Halibut,  mebbe."  Dan  peered  down  into 
the  water  alongside,  and  flourished  the  big 
"muckle,"    ready    for    all     chances.     Some- 


72  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

thing  white  and  oval  flickered  and  fluttered 
through  the  green.  "I  '11  lay  my  wage  an' 
share  he  's  over  a  hundred.  Are  you  so 
everlastin'  anxious  to  land  him  alone  ?  " 

Harvey's  knuckles  were  raw  and  bleeding 
where  they  had  been  banged  against  the 
gunwale ;  his  face  was  purple-blue  between 
excitement  and  exertion ;  he  dripped  with 
sweat,  and  was  half-blinded  from  staring  at 
the  circling  sunlit  ripples  about  the  swiftly 
moving  line.  The  boys  were  tired  long  ere 
the  halibut,  who  took  charge  of  them  and  the 
dory  for  the  next  twenty  minutes.  But  the 
big  flat  fish  was  gaffed  and  hauled  in  at  last. 

'*  Beginner's  luck,"  said  Dan,  wiping  his 
forehead.     "  He  's  all  of  a  hundred." 

Harvey  looked  at  the  huge  gray-and- 
mottled  creature  with  unspeakable  pride. 
He  had  seen  halibut  many  times  on  marble 
slabs  ashore,  but  it  had  never  occurred  to 
him  to  ask  how  they  came  inland.  Now  he 
knew  ;  and  every  inch  of  his  body  ached  with 
fatigue. 

*'  Ef  dad  was  along,"  said  Dan,  hauling 
up,  **  he  'd  read  the  signs  plain  's  print.  The 
fish  are  runnin'  smaller  an'  smaller,  an*  you  've 
took  'baout  as  logy  a  halibut  's  we  're  apt  to 


•I  'll  lay  my  wage  an'  share  he  's  over  a  hundred.'" 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  75 

find  this  trip.  Yesterday's  catch  —  did  ye 
notice  it  ?  —  was  all  big  fish  an'  no  halibut. 
Dad  he  'd  read  them  signs  right  off.  Dad 
says  everythin'  on  the  Banks  is  signs,  an*  can 
be  read  wrong  er  right.  Dad  's  deeper  'n 
the  Whale-hole." 

Even  as  he  spoke  some  one  fired  a  pistol 
on  the  IVe  're  Here,  and  a  potato-basket  was 
run  up  in  the  fore-rigging, 

'*  What  did  I  say,  naow  ?  That  's  the  caK 
fer  the  whole  crowd.  Dad 's  outer  something, 
er  he  'd  never  break  fishin'  this  time  o'  day. 
Reel  up,  Harve,  an'  we  '11  pull  back." 

They  were  to  windward  of  the  schooner, 
just  ready  to  flirt  the  dory  over  the  still  sea, 
when  sounds  of  woe  half  a  mile  off  led  them 
to  Penn,  who  was  careering  around  a  fixed 
point,  for  all  the  world  like  a  gigantic  water- 
bug.  The  little  man  backed  away  and  came 
down  again  with  enormous  energy,  but  at  the 
end  of  each  manoeuvre  his  dory  swung  round 
and  snubbed  herself  on  her  rope. 

*'  We  '11  hev  to  help  him,  else  he  '11  root  an' 
seed  here,"  said  Dan. 

"What 's  the  matter?"  said  Harvey.  This 
was  a  new  world,  where  he  could  not  lay 
down  the  law  to  his  elders,  but  had  to  ask 


76  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

questions  humbly.  And  the  sea  was  horribly 
big  and  unexcited. 

"  Anchor  's  fouled.  Penn  's  always  losing 
*em.  Lost  two  this  trip  a'ready  —  on  sandy 
bottom  too  —  an'  dad  says  next  one  he  loses, 
sure  's  fishin',  he  '11  give  him  the  kelleg.  That 
'u'd  break  Penn's  heart." 

"What  's  a  'kelleg'?"  said  Harvey,  who 
had  a  vague  idea  it  might  be  some  kind  of 
marine  torture,  like  keel-hauling  in  the  story- 
books. 

•'  Big  stone  instid  of  an  anchor.  You  kin 
see  a  kelleg  ridin'  in  the  bows  fur  *s  you  can 
see  a  dory,  an'  all  the  fleet  knows  what  it 
means.  They  'd  guy  him  dreadful.  Penn 
could  n't  stand  that  no  more  'n  a  dog  with  a 
dipper  to  his  tail.  He  's  so  everlastin'  sensi- 
tive. Hello,  Penn  !  Stuck  again  ?  Don't  try 
any  more  o'  your  patents.  Come  up  on  her, 
and  keep  your  rodin'  straight  up  an'  down." 

"  It  does  n't  move,"  said  the  little  man,  pant- 
ing. •*  It  does  n't  move  at  all,  and  indeed  I 
tried  everything." 

"  What  's  all  this  hurrah's-nest  for'ard  ? " 
said  Dan,  pointing  to  a  wild  tangle  of  spare 
oars  and  dory-roding,  all  matted  together  by 
the  hand  of  inexperience. 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  ^^ 

"  Oh,  that,"  said  Penn  proudly,  "  is  a  Span- 
ish windlass.  Mr.  Salters  showed  me  how  to 
make  it ;  but  even  that  does  n't  move  her." 

Dan  bent  low  over  the  gunwale  to  hide  a 
smile,  twitched  once  or  twice  on  the  roding, 
and,  behold,  the  anchor  drew  at  once. 

"Haul  up,  Penn,"  he  said,  laughing,  "er 
she  '11  git  stuck  again." 

They  left  him  regarding  the  weed-hung 
flukes  of  the  little  anchor  with  big,  pathetic 
blue  eyes,  and  thanking  them  profusely. 

'*  Oh,  say,  while  I  think  of  it,  Harve,"  said 
Dan  when  they  were  out  of  ear-shot,  "  Penn 
ain't  quite  all  caulked.  He  ain't  nowise  dan- 
gerous, but  his  mind  's  give  out.     See  ?  " 

"  Is  that  so,  or  is  it  one  of  your  father's 
judgments?  "  Harvey  asked  as  he  bent  to  his 
oars.  He  felt  he  was  learning  to  handle  them 
more  easily. 

"  Dad  ain't  mistook  this  time.  Penn  's  a 
sure  'nuff  loony.  No,  he  ain't  thet  exactly,  so 
much  ez  a  harmless  ijjit.  It  was  this  way 
(you  're  rowin'  quite  so,  Harve),  an'  I  tell  you 
'cause  it 's  right  you  orter  know.  He  was  a 
Moravian  preacher  once.  Jacob  Boiler  wuz 
his  name,  dad  told  me,  an'  he  lived  with  his 
wife  an'  four  children  somewheres  out  Penn- 


78  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

sylvania  way.  Well,  Penn  he  took  his  folks 
along  to  a  Moravian  meetin' — camp-meetin' 
most  like  —  an'  they  stayed  over  jest  one 
night  in  Johnstown.  You  've  heered  talk 
o'  Johnstown  ?  " 

Harvey  considered.  **  Yes,  I  have.  But 
I  don't  know  why.  It  sticks  in  my  head 
same  as  Ashtabula." 

"Both  was  big  accidents  —  thet  's  why, 
Harve.  Well,  that  one  single  night  Penn  and 
his  folks  was  to  the  hotel  Johnstown  was 
wiped  out.  'Dam  bust  an'  flooded  her,  an' 
the  houses  struck  adrift  an'  bumped  into 
each  other  an'  sunk.  I  've  seen  the  pictures, 
an'  they  're  dretful.  Penn  he  saw  his  folk 
drowned  all  'n  a  heap  'fore  he  rightly  knew 
what  was  comin'.  His  mind  give  out  from 
that  on.  He  mistrusted  somethin'  hed  hap- 
pened up  to  Johnstown,  but  for  the  poor  life 
of  him  he  could  n't  remember  what,  an'  he 
jest  drifted  araound  smilin'  an'  wonderin'. 
He  did  n't  know  what  he  was,  nor  yit  what 
he  hed  bin,  an'  thet  way  he  run  agin  Uncle 
Salters,  who  was  visitin'  'n  Allegheny  City. 
Ha'af  my  mother's  folks  they  live  scattered 
inside  o'  Pennsylvania,  an'  Uncle  Salters  he 
visits    araound    winters.     Uncle    Salters    he 


'* CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  79 

kinder  adopted  Penn,  well  knowin'  what  his 
trouble  wuz ;  an'  he  brought  him  East,  an' 
he  give  him  work  on  his  farm." 

"  Why,  I  heard  him  calling  Penn  a  farmer 
last  night  when  the  boats  bumped.  Is  your 
Uncle  Salters  a  farmer  ? " <^0  P 


"  Farmer  !  "  shouted  Dan.  "  There  ain't 
water  enough  'tween  here  an'  Hatt'rus  to 
wash  the  furrer-mold  off'n  his  boots.  He  's 
jest  everlastin'  farmer.  Why,  Harve,  I  've 
seen  thet  man  hitch  up  a  bucket,  long  towards 
sundown,  an'  set  twiddlin'  the  spigot  to  the 
scuttle-butt  same  's  ef  't  wuz  a  cow's  bag. 
He 's  thet  much  farmer.  Well,  Penn  an'  he  they 
ran  the  farm  — up  Exeter  way  't  wuz.  Uncle 
Salters  he  sold  it  this  spring  to  a  jay  from 
Boston  as  wanted  to  build  a  summer-haouse, 
an'  he  got  a  heap  for  it.  Well,  them  two 
loonies  scratched  along  till,  one  day,  Penn's 
church  he  'd  belonofed  to  —  the  Moravians  — 
found  out  where  he  wuz  drifted  an'  layin', 
an'  wrote  to  Uncle  Salters.  'Never  heerd 
what  they  said  exactly ;  but  Uncle  Salters 
was  mad.  He  's  a  'piscopalian  mostly  —  but 
he  jest  let  'em  hev  it  both  sides  o'  the  bow,  's 
if  he  was  a  Baptist ;  an'  sez  he  war  n't  goin' 
to  give  up  Penn  to  any  blame  Moravian  con- 


8o  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

nection  in  Pennsylvania  or  anywheres  else. 
Then  he  come  to  dad,  towin'  Penn, —  thet  was 
two  trips  back, —  an'  sez  he  an*  Penn  must  fish 
a  trip  fer  their  health.  'Guess  he  thought  the 
Moravians  would  n't  hunt  the  Banks  fer  Jacob 
Boiler.  Dad  was  agreeable,  fer  Uncle  Salters 
he  'd  been  fishin'  off  an'  on  fer  thirty  years, 
when  he  war  n't  inventin'  patent  manures,  an' 
he  took  quarter-share  in  the  We  're  Here ; 
an'  the  trip  done  Penn  so  much  good,  dad 
made  a  habit  o'  takin'  him.  Some  day,  dad 
sez,  he  '11  remember  his  wife  an'  kids  afi 
Johnstown,  an'  then,  like  's  not,  he  '11  die, 
dad  sez.  Don't  ye  talk  abaout  Johnstown  ner 
such  things  to  Penn,  'r  Uncle  Salters  he  '11 
heave  ye  overboard." 

"  Poor  Penn  !  "  murmured  Harvey.  **  I 
should  n't  ever  have  thought  Uncle  Salters 
cared  for  him  by  the  look  of  'em  together." 

"  I  like  Penn,  though  ;  we  all  do,"  said  Dan. 
"We  ought  to  ha'  give  him  a  tow,  but  I 
wanted  to  tell  ye  first." 

They  were  close  to  the  schooner  now,  the 
other  boats  a  little  behind  them. 

"You  need  n't  heave  in  the  dories  till  after 
dinner,"  said  Troop  from  the  deck.  "  We  '11 
dress-daown  right  off      Fix  table,  boys  !  " 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  8l 

"Deeper  'n  the  Whale- deep,"  said  Dan, 
with  a  wink,  as  he  set  the  gear  for  dressing 
down.  "  Look  at  them  boats  that  hev  edged 
up  sence  mornin'.  They  're  all  waitin'  on 
dad.     See 'em,  Harve?" 

"They  are  all  alike  to  me."  And  indeed 
to  a  landsman,  the  nodding  schooners  around 
seemed  run  from  the  same  mold. 

"  They  ain't,  though.  That  yaller,  dirty 
packet  with  her  bowsprit  steeved  that  way, 
she  's  the  Hope  of  Prague.  Nick  Brady  's 
her  skipper,  the  meanest  man  on  the  Banks. 
We  '11  tell  him  so  when  we  strike  the  Main 
Ledge.  'Way  off  yander  's  the  Days  Eye. 
The  two  Jeraulds  own  her.  She  's  from  Har- 
wich ;  fastish,  too,  an'  hez  good  luck ;  but  dad 
he  'd  find  fish  in  a  graveyard.  Them  other 
three,  side  along,  they  're  the  Margie  Smith, 
Rose,  and  Edith  S.  Walen,  all  frum  home. 
'Guess  we  '11  see  the  Abbie  M.  Deeriiig  to- 
morrer,  dad,  won't  we  ?  They  're  all  slippin* 
over  from  the  shoal  o'  'Queereau." 

"You  won't  see  many  boats  to-morrow, 
Danny."  When  Troop  called  his  son  Danny, 
it  was  a  sign  that  the  old  man  was  pleased. 
"  Boys,  we  're  too  crowded,"  he  went  on,  ad- 
dressing the  crew  as  they  clambered  inboard. 


82  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

"  We  '11  leave  'em  to  bait  big  an'  catch  small.*' 
He  looked  at  the  catch  in  the  pen,  and  it  was 
curious  to  see  how  little  and  level  the  fish  ran. 
Save  for  Harvey's  halibut,  there  was  nothing 
over  fifteen  pounds  on  deck. 

"  I  'm  waitin'  on  the  weather,"  he  added. 

"  Ye  '11  have  to  make  it  yourself,  Disko,  for 
there  's  no  sign  /  can  see,"  said  Long  Jack, 
sweeping  the  clear  horizon. 

And  yet,  half  an  hour  later,  as  they  were 
dressing  down,  the  Bank  fog  dropped  on 
them,  "between  fish  and  fish,"  as  they  say. 
It  drove  steadily  and  in  wreaths,  curling  and 
smoking  along  the  colorless  water.  The  men 
stopped,dressing-down  without  a  word.  Long 
Jack  and  Uncle  Salters  slipped  the  windlass 
brakes  into  their  sockets,  and  began  to  heave 
up  the  anchor ;  the  windlass  jarring  as  the  wet 
hempen  cable  strained  on  the  barrel.  Man- 
uel and  Tom  Piatt  gave  a  hand  at  the  last. 
The  anchor  came  up  with  a  sob,  and  the  rid- 
ing-sail bellied  as  Troop  steadied  her  at  the 
wheel.     "  Up  jib  and  foresail,"  said  he. 

"  Slip  'em  in  the  smother,"  shouted  Lc  g 
Jack,  making  fast  the  jib-sheet,  while  i 
others  raised  the  clacking,  rattling  rings  f 
the  foresail ;  and  the  fore-boom  creaked  as  the 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  83 

We  're  Here  looked  up  into  the  wind  and 
dived  off  into  blank,  whirling  white. 

"There  's  wind  behind  this  fog,"  said 
Troop. 

It  was  all  wonderful  beyond  words  to 
Harvey ;  and  the  most  wonderful  part  wa^ 
that  he  heard  no  orders  except  an  occasional 
grunt  from  Troop,  ending  with,  "  That  's 
good,   my  son  !  " 

"  'Never  seen  anchor  weighed  before  ?  " 
said  Tom  Piatt,  to  Harvey  gaping  at  the  damp 
canvas  of  the  foresail. 

"  No.     Where  are  we  going  ?  " 

"  Fish  and  make  berth,  as  you  '11  find  out 
'fore  you  've  bin  a  week  aboard.  It  's  all  new 
to  you,  but  we  never  know  what  may  come  to 
us.  Now,  take  me  — Tom  Piatt  — I  'd  never 
ha'  thought — " 

"  It 's  better  than  fourteen  dollars  a  month 
an*  a  bullet  in  your  belly,"  said  Troop,  from 
the  wheel.     "  Ease  your  jumbo  a  grind." 

"  Dollars  an'  cents  better,"  returned  the 
man-o'-war's  man,  doing  something  to  a  big 
jib'^vith  a  wooden  spar  tied  to  it.  "But  we 
d^  J  n't  think  o'  that  when  we  manned  the 
wLdlass-brakes  on  the  Miss  Jim  Buck^  omX.- 

IThe  Gemsbok,  U.  S.  N.? 


84  "CAPTAINS    COURAGEOUS" 

side  Beaufort  Harbor,  with  Fort  Magon 
heavin'  hot  shot  at  our  stern,  an'  a  Uvin'  gale 
atop  of  all.   'Where  was  you  then,  Disko?" 

*'  Jest  here,  or  hereabouts,"  Disko  replied, 
"  earnin*  my  bread  on  the  deep  waters,  an' 
dodgin'  Reb  privateers.  Sorry  I  can't  accom- 
modate you  with  red-hot  shot,  Tom  Piatt;  but 
I  guess  we  '11  come  aout  all  right  on  wind 
'fore  we  see  Eastern  Point." 

There  was  an  incessant  slapping  and  chat- 
ter at  the  bows  now,  varied  by  a  solid  thud 
and  a  little  spout  of  spray  that  clattered  down 
on  the  foc'sle.  The  rigging  dripped  clammy 
drops,  and  the  men  lounged  along  the  lee  of 
the  house  —  all  save  Uncle  Salters,  who  sat 
stiffly  on  the  main-hatch  nursing  his  stung 
hands. 

"'Guess  she  'd  carry  stays'l,"  said  Disko, 
rolling  one  eye  at  his  brother. 

"  'Guess  she  would  n't  to  any  sorter  profit. 
What  's  the  sense  o'  wastin'  canvas  ? "  the 
farmer-sailor  replied. 

The  wheel  twitched  almost  imperceptibly 
in  Disko's  hands.  A  few  seconds  later  a 
hissing  wave-top  slashed  diagonally  across 
the  boat,  smote  Uncle  Salters  between  the 
shoulders,  and  drenched  him    from    head    to 


"A   FEW   SECONDS   LATER  A  HISSING  WAVE-TOP    .     .     .     SMOTE 

UNCLE    SALTERS    BETWEEN    THE    SHOULDERS,   AND 

DRENCHED   HIM   FROM   HEAD   TO   FOOT." 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  Zj 

foot.  He  rose  sputtering,  ^nd  went  forward 
only  to  catch  another. 

"  See  dad  chase  him  all  around  the  deck," 
said  Dan.  "  Uncle  Salters  he  thinks  his  quar- 
ter share  's  our  canvas.  Dad 's  put  this  duckin' 
act  up  on  him  two  trips  runnin*.  Hi !  That 
found  him  where  he  feeds."  Uncle  Salters 
had  taken  refuge  by  the  foremast,  but  a  wave 
slapped  him  over  the  knees.  Disko's  face 
was  as  blank  as  the  circle  of  the  wheel. 

"  Guess  she  'd  lie  easier  under  stays'l, 
Salters,"  said  Disko,  as  though  he  had  seen 
nothing. 

"  Set  your  old  kite,  then,"  roared  the  vic- 
tim through  a  cloud  of  spray ;  **  only  don't 
lay  it  to  me  if  anything  happens.  Penn,  you 
go  below  right  off  an'  git  your  coffee.  You 
ought  to  hev  more  sense  than  to  bum  araound 
on  deck  this  weather." 

"  Now  they  '11  swill  coffee  an'  play  checkers 
till  the  cows  come  home,"  said  Dan,  as  Uncle 
Salters  hustled  Penn  into  the  fore-cabin. 
"  'Looks  to  me  like  's  if  we  'd  all  be  doin' 
so  fer  a  spell.  There  's  nothin'  in  creation 
deader-limpsey- idler  'n  a  Banker  when  she 
ain't  on  fish." 

"  I  'm  glad  ye  spoke,  Danny,"  cried  Long 


88  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

Jack,  who  had  been  casting  round  in  search 
of  amusement.  "  I  'd  clean  forgot  we  'd  a 
passenger  under  that  T-wharf  hat.  There  's 
no  idleness  for  thim  that  don't  know  their 
ropes.  Pass  him  along,  Tom  Piatt,  an'  we  '11 
larn  him." 

•*'T  ain't  my  trick  this  time,"  grinned  Dan. 
**  You  've  got  to  go  it  alone.  Dad  learned 
me  with  a  rope's  end." 

For  an  hour  Long  Jack  walked  his  prey  up 
and  down,  teaching,  as  he  said,  "things  at  the 
sea  that  ivry  man  must  know,  blind,  dhrunk, 
or  asleep."  There  is  not  much  gear  to  a  sev- 
enty-ton schooner  with  a  stump-foremast,  but 
Long  Jack  had  a  gift  of  expression.  When 
he  wished  to  draw  Harvey's  attention  to  the 
peak-halyards,  he  dug  his  knuckles  into  the 
back  of  the  boy's  neck  and  kept  him  at  gaze 
for  half  a  minute.  He  emphasized  the  differ- 
ence between  fore  and  aft  generally  by  rub- 
bing Harvey's  nose  along  a  few  feet  of  the 
boom,  and  the  lead  of  each  rope  was  fixed  in 
Harvey's  mind  by  the  end  of  the  rope  itself. 

The  lesson  would  have  been  easier  had  the 
deck  been  at  all  free ;  but  there  appeared  to 
be  a  place  on  it  for  everything  and  anything 
except  a  man.     Forward  lay  the  windlass  and 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  89 

its  tackle,  with  the  chain  and  hemp  cables,  all 
very  unpleasant  to  trip  over ;  the  foc'sle  stove- 
pipe, and  the  gurry-butts  by  the  foc'sle  hatch 
to  hold  the  fish-livers.  Aft  of  these  the  fore- 
boom  and  booby  of  the  main-hatch  took  all 
the  space  that  was  not  needed  for  the  pumps 
and  dressing-pens.  Then  came  the  nests  of 
dories  lashed  to  ring-bolts  by  the  quarter-deck; 
the  house,  with  tubs  and  oddments  lashed  all 
around  it;  and,  last,  the  sixty-foot  main-boom 
in  its  crutch,  splitting  things  lengthwise,  to 
duck  and  dodge  under  every  time. 

Tom  Piatt,  of  course,  could  not  keep  his 
oar  out  of  the  business,  but  ranged  alongside 
with  enormous  and  unnecessary  descriptions 
of  sails  and  spars  on  the  old  Ohio. 

**  Niver  mind  fwhat  he  says ;  attind  to  me, 
Innocince.  Tom  Piatt,  this  bally-hoo  's  not 
the  Ohio,  an'  you'  re  mixing  the  bhoy  bad." 

"  He  '11  be  ruined  for  life,  beginnin'  on  a 
fore -an*- after  this  way,"  Tom  Piatt  pleaded. 
**  Give  him  a  chance  to  know  a  few  leadin' 
principles.  Sailin'  's  an  art,  Harvey,  as  I  'd 
show  you  if  I  had  ye  in  the  fore-top  o' 
the—" 

•*  I  know  ut.  Ye  'd  talk  him  dead  an' 
cowld.     Silince,  Tom  Piatt !     Now,   after  all 


90  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

I  Ve  said,  how  'd  you  reef  the  foresail,  Harve? 
Take  your  time  answerin'." 

"  Haul  that  in,"  said  Harvey,  pointing  to 
leeward. 

"  Fwhat  ?     The  North  Adantuc  ?  " 

"  No,  the  boom.  Then  run  that  rope  you 
showed  me  back  there — " 

"  That 's  no  way,"  Tom  Piatt  burst  in. 

"  Quiet !  He  's  larnin',  an'  has  not  the 
names  good  yet.     Go  on,  Harve." 

"  Oh,  it 's  the  reef-pennant.  I  'd  hook  the 
tackle  on  to  the  reef- pennant,  and  then  let 
down  — " 

"  Lower  the  sail,  child  !  Lower  !  "  said 
Tom  Piatt,  in  a  professional  agony. 

"  Lower  the  throat  and  peak  halyards," 
Harvey  went  on.  Those  names  stuck  in  his 
head. 

"  Lay  your  hand  on  thim,"  said  Long  Jack. 

Harvey  obeyed.  "  Lower  till  that  rope- 
loop —  on  the  after-leach  —  kris  —  no,  it  's 
cringle  —  till  the  cringle  was  down  on  the 
boom.  Then  I  'd  tie  her  up  the  way  you  said, 
and  then  I  'd  hoist  up  the  peak  and  throat 
halyards  again." 

"  You  've  forgot  to  pass  the  tack-earing, 
but  wid  time  and  help  ye  '11  larn.     There  's 


"FOR  AN   HOUR   LONG  JACK  WALKED   HIS   PREY   UP  AND    DOWN, 

TEACHING,   AS   HE   SAID,  'THINGS   IVRY   MAN   MUST 

KNOW,   BLIND,   DHRUNK,   OR   ASLEEP.'" 


"CAPTAINS    COURAGEOUS"  93 

good  and  just  reason  for  ivry  rope  aboard,  or 
else  't  would  be  overboard.  D'  ye  follow  me  ? 
'T  is  dollars  an'  cents  I  'm  puttin'  into  your 
pocket,  ye  skinny  little  supercargo,  so  that 
fwhin  ye  've  filled  out  ye  can  ship  from  Boston 
to  Cuba  an'  tell  thim  Long  Jack  larned  you. 
Now  I  '11  chase  ye  around  a  piece,  callin'  the 
ropes,  an'  you  '11  lay  your  hand  on  thim  as  I 
call." 

He  began,  and  Harvey,  who  was  feeling 
rather  tired,  walked  slowly  to  the  rope  named. 
A  rope's  end  licked  round  his  ribs,  and  nearly 
knocked  the  breath  out  of  him. 

"When  you  own  a  boat,"  said  Tom  Piatt, 
with  severe  eyes,  "  you  can  walk.  Till  then, 
take  all  orders  at  the  run.  Once  more  —  to 
make  sure ! " 

Harvey  was  in  a  glow  with  the  exercise, 
and  this  last  cut  warmed  him  thoroughly. 
Now,  he  was  a  singularly  smart  boy,  the  son 
of  a  very  clever  man  and  a  very  sensitive  wo- 
man, with  a  fine  resolute  temper  that  system- 
atic spoiling  had  nearly  turned  to  mulish  ob- 
stinacy. He  looked  at  the  other  men,  and 
saw  that  even  Dan  did  not  smile.  It  was  evi- 
dently all  in  the  day's  work,  though  it  hurt 
abominably ;    so  he  swallowed  the  hint  with 


94  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

a  gulp  and  a  gasp  and  a  grin.  The  same 
smartness  that  led  him  to  take  such  advantage 
of  his  mother  made  him  very  sure  that  no  one 
on  the  boat,  except,  maybe,  Penn,  would  stand 
the  least  nonsense.  One  learns  a  great  deal 
from  a  mere  tone.  Long  Jack  called  over 
half  a  dozen  more  ropes,  and  Harvey  danced 
over  the  deck  like  an  eel  at  ebb-tide,  one  eye 
on  Tom  Piatt. 

"Ver  good.  Ver'  good  done,"  said  Manuel. 
**  After  supper  I  show  you  a  little  schooner  I 
make,  with  all  her  ropes.      So  we  shall  learn." 

"Fust-class  fer  —  a  passenger,"  said  Dan. 
"  Dad  he  's  jest  allowed  you  '11  be  wuth  your 
salt  maybe  'fore  you  're  draownded.  Thet  's 
a  heap  fer  dad.  I  '11  learn  you  more  our  next 
watch  together." 

**  Taller  !  "  grunted  Disko,  peering  through 
the  fog"  as  it  smoked  over  the  bows.  There 
was  nothing  to  be  seen  ten  feet  beyond  the 
surging  jib-boom,  while  alongside  rolled  the 
endless  procession  of  solemn,  pale  waves 
whispering  and  lipping  one  to  the  other. 

"  Now  I  '11  learn  you  something  Long  Jack 
can't,"  shouted  Tom  Piatt,  as  from  a  locker 
by  the  stern  he  produced  a  battered  deep-sea 
lead  hollowed  at  one  end,  smeared  the  hollow 


''CAPTAINS  COURAGEOUS"        95 

from  a  saucer  full  of  mutton  tallow,  and  went 
forward.  "  I  '11  learn  you  how  to  fly  the  Blue 
Pigeon.     Shooo ! " 

Disko  did  something  to  the  wheel  that 
checked  the  schooner's  way,  while  Manuel, 
with  Harvey  to  help  (and  a  proud  boy  was 
Harvey),  let  down  the  jib  in  a  lump  on  the 
boom.  The  lead  sung  a  deep  droning  song 
as  Tom  Piatt  whirled  it  round  and  round. 

"  Go  ahead,  man,"  said  Long  Jack,  im- 
patiently. "  We  're  not  drawin'  twenty-five 
fut  off  Fire  Island  in  a  fog.  There  's  no 
trick  to  ut." 

"  Don't  be  jealous,  Galway."  The  released 
lead  plopped  into  the  sea  far  ahead  as  the 
schooner  surged  slowly  forward. 

"  Soundin'  is  a  trick,  though,"  said  Dan, 
**  when  your  dipsey  lead  's  all  the  eye  you  're 
like  to  hev  for  a  week.  What  d'  you  make 
it,  dad?" 

Disko's  face  relaxed.  His  skill  and  honor 
were  involved  in  the  march  he  had  stolen  on 
the  rest  of  the  fleet,  and  he  had  his  reputation 
as  a  master  artist  who  knew  the  Banks  blind- 
fold. "  Sixty,  mebbe  —  ef  I  'm  any  judge,"  he 
replied,  with  a  glance  at  the  tiny  compass  in 
the  window  of  the  house. 


96  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

"  Sixty,"  sung  out  Tom  Piatt,  hauling  in 
great  wet  coils. 

The  schooner  gathered  way  once  more. 
"Heave!"  said  Disko,  after  a  quarter  of 
an  hour. 

'*  What  d' you  make  it?"  Dan  whispered, 
and  he  looked  at  Harvey  proudly.  But  Har- 
vey was  too  proud  of  his  own  performances 
to  be  impressed  just  then. 

**  Fifty,"  said  the  father.  "  I  mistrust  we  're 
right  over  the  nick  o'  Green  Bank  on  old 
Sixty-Fifty." 

"  Fifty  !  "  roared  Tom  Piatt.  They  could 
scarcely  see  him  through  the  fog.  "  She  's 
bust  within  a  yard  —  like  the  shells  at  Fort 
Magon." 

"  Bait  up,  Harve,"  said  Dan,  diving  for  a 
line  on  the  reel. 

The  schooner  seemed  to  be  straying  pro- 
miscuously through  the  smother,  her  headsail 
banging  wildly.  The  men  waited  and  looked 
at  the  boys  who  began  fishing. 

"  Heugh !  "  Dan's  lines  twitched  on  the 
scored  and  scarred  rail.  "  Now  haow  in 
thunder  did  dad  know?  Help  us  here, 
Harve.  It  's  a  big  un.  Poke-hooked,  too." 
They  hauled  together,  and  landed  a  goggle- 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  97 

eyed  twenty-pound  cod.     He  had  taken  the 
bait  right  into  his  stomach. 

"  Why,  he  's  all  covered  with  little  crabs," 
cried  Harvey,  turning  him  over. 

"  By  the  great  hook-block,  they  're  lousy 
already,"  said  Long  Jack.  **  Disko,  ye  kape 
your  spare  eyes  under  the  keel." 

Splash  went  the  anchor,  and  they  all  heaved 
over  the  lines,  each  man  taking  his  own  place 
at  the  bulwarks. 

"Are  they  good  to  eat?"  Harvey  panted, 
as  he  lugged  in  another  crab-covered  cod. 

"  Sure.     When  they  're  lousy  it  's  a  sign 
they    've    all    been    herdin*    together   by   the 
thousand,  and  when  they  take  the  bait  that 
way  they  're  hungry.     Never  mind  how  th( 
bait  sets.     They  '11  bite  on  the  bare  hook." 

"Say,  this  is  great!"  Harvey  cried,  as  the 
fish  came  in  gasping  and  splashing  —  nearly 
all  poke-hooked,  as  Dan  had  said.  "Why 
can't  we  always  fish  from  the  boat  instead  of 
from  the  dories  ?  " 

"  Alius  can,  till  we  begin  to  dress  daown. 
Efter  thet,  the  heads  and  offals  'u'd  scare 
the  fish  to  Fundyf  Boat-fishin'  ain't  reckoned 
progressive,  though,  unless  ye  know  as  much 
as  dad  knows.     Guess  we  '11  run  aout  aour 


98  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

trawl  to-night  Harder  on  the  back,  this, 
than  from  the  dory,  ain't  it  ?  " 

It  was  rather  back-breaking  work,  for  in  a 
dory  the  weight  of  a  cod  is  water-borne  till 
the  last  minute,  and  you  are,  so  to  speak, 
abreast  of  him  ;  but  the  few  feet  of  a  schoon- 
er's freeboard  make  so  much  extra  dead-haul- 
ing, and  stooping  over  the  bulwarks  cramps 
.  the  stomach.  But  it  was  wild  and  furious 
sport  so  long  as  it  lasted ;  and  a  big  pile  lay 
aboard  when  the  fish  ceased  biting. 

"Where's  Penn  and  Uncle  Salters?"  Har- 
vey asked,  slapping  the  slime  off  his  oilskins, 
and  reeling  up  the  line  in  careful  imitation 
of  the  others. 

"  Git  's  coffee  and  see." 

Under  the  yellow  glare  of  the  lamp  on  the 
pawl -post,  the  foc'sle  table  down  and  opened, 
utterly  unconscious  of  fish  or  weather,  sat.  the 
two  men,  a  checker-board  between  them. 
Uncle  Salters  snarling  at  Penn's  every 
move. 

"  What 's  the  matter  naow  ?  "  said  the  for- 
mer, as  Harvey,  one  hand  in  the  leather  loop 
at  the  head  of  the  ladder,  hung  shouting  to 
the  cook. 

"  Bi^  fish  and  lousy  —  heaps  and  heaps." 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  99 

Harvey  replied,  quoting  Long  Jack.  "  How  's 
the  orame  ?  " 

Little  Penn's  jaw  dropped.  "  'T  were  n't 
none  o'  his  fault,"  snapped  Uncle  Salters. 
•'  Penn  's  deef." 

"  Checkers,  were  n't  it  ? "  said  Dan,  as 
Harvey  staggered  aft  with  the  steaming  cof- 
fee in  a  tin  pail.  "That  lets  us  out  o'  clean- 
in'  up  to-night.  Dad  's  a  jest  man.  They  '11 
have  to  do  it." 

"An'  two  young  fellers  I  know  '11  bait  up 
a  tub  or  so  o'  trawl,  while  they  're  cleanin'," 
said  Disko,  lashing  the  wheel  to  his  taste. 

"  Um  !     Guess  I  'd  ruther  clean  up,  Dad." 

"  Don't  doubt  it.  Ye  wun't,  though.  Dress 
daown  !  Dress  daown  !  Penn  '11  pitch  while 
you  two  bait  up." 

"  Why  in  thunder  did  n't  them  blame  boys 
tell  us  you  'd  struck  on  ? "  said  Uncle  Salters, 
shuffling  to  his  place  at  the  table.  "  This 
knife  's  gum-blunt,  Dan." 

"  Ef  stickin'  out  cable  don't  wake  ye,  guess 
you  'd  better  hire  a  boy  o'  your  own,"  said 
Dan,  muddling  about  in  the  dusk  over  the 
tubs  full  of  trawl-line  lashed  to  windward  of 
the  house.  "  Oh,  Harve,  don't  ye  want  to 
slip  down  an'  git  's  bait  ?  " 


loo  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

"  Bait  ez  we  are,"  said  Disko.  **  I  mistrust 
shag-fishin'  will  pay  better,  ez  things  go." 

That  meant  the  boys  would  bait  with 
selected  offal  of  the  cod  as  the  fish  were 
cleaned  —  an  improvement  on  paddling  bare- 
handed in  the  little  bait-barrels  below.  The 
tubs  were  full  of  neatly  coiled  line  carrying 
a  big  hook  each  few  feet;  and  the  testing 
and  baiting  of  every  single  hook,  with  the 
stowage  of  the  baited  line  so  that  it  should 
run  clear  when  shot  from  the  dory,  was  a  sci- 
entific business.  Dan  managed  it  in  the  dark, 
without  looking,  while  Harvey  caught  his 
fingers  on  the  barbs  and  bewailed  his  fate. 
But  the  hooks  flew  through  Dan's  fingers  like 
tatting  on  an  old  maid's  lap.  "  I  helped  bait 
up  trawl  ashore  'fore  I  could  well  walk,"  he 
said.  "  But  it 's  a  putterin'  job  all  the  same. 
Oh,  dad  !  "  This  shouted  towards  the  hatch, 
where  Disko  and  Tom  Piatt  were  salting. 
**  How  many  skates  you  reckon  we  '11  need  ?  " 

"  'Baout  three.     Hurry  !  " 

"There  's  three  hundred  fathom  to  each 
tub,"  Dan  explained  ;  "  more  'n  enough  to  lay 
out  to-night.  Ouch !  'Slipped  up  there,  I 
did,"  He  stuck  his  finger  in  his  mouth.  "  I 
tell  you,  Harve,  there  ain't  money  in  Glouces- 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  loi 

ter  'u'd  hire  me  to  ship  on  a  reg'lar  trawler. 
It  may  be  progressive,  but,  barrin'  that,  it 's 
the  putterin'est,  slimjammest  business  top  of 
earth." 

"  I  don't  know  what  this  is,  if 't  is  n't  regu- 
lar trawling,"  said  Harvey  sulkily.  **  My  fin- 
gers are  all  cut  to  frazzles." 

"  Pshaw !  This  is  jest  one  o'  dad's  blame 
experiments.  He  don't  trawl  'less  there  's 
mighty  good  reason  fer  it.  Dad  knows. 
Thet  's  why  he  's  baitin'  ez  he  is.  We  '11  hev 
her  saggin'  full  when  we  take  her  up  er  we 
won't  see  a  fin." 

Penn  and  Uncle  Salters  cleaned  up  as  Disko 
had  ordained,  but  the  boys  profited  little.  No 
sooner  were  the  tubs  furnished  than  Tom 
Piatt  and  Long  Jack,  who  had  been  exploring 
the  inside  of  a  dory  with  a  lantern,  snatched 
them  away,  loaded  up  the  tubs  and  some 
small,  painted  trawl-buoys,  and  hove  the  boat 
overboard  into  what  Harvey  regarded  as  an 
exceedingly  rough  sea.  "They  '11  be  drowned. 
Why,  the  dory  *s  loaded  like  a  freight-car," 
he  cried. 

"We  '11  be  back,"  said  Long  Jack,  "an'  in 
case  you  '11  not  be  lookin'  for  us,  we  '11  lay 
into  you  both  if  the  trawl  *s  snarled." 


102  "CAPTAINS  COURAGEOUS" 

The  dory  surged  up  on  the  crest  of  a  wave, 
and  just  when  it  seemed  impossible  that  she 
could  avoid  smashing  against  the  schooner's 
side,  slid  over  the  ridge,  and  was  swallowed 
up  in  the  damp  dusk, 

"Take  ahold  here,  an'  keep  ringin'  steady," 
said  Dan,  passing  Harvey  the  lanyard  of  a 
bell  that  hung  just  behind  the  windlass. 

Harvey  rang  lustily,  for  he  felt  two  lives 
depended  on  him.  But  Disko  in  the  cabin, 
scrawling  in  the  log-book,  did  not  look  like 
a  murderer,  and  when  he  went  to  supper  he 
even  smiled  dryly  at  the  anxious  Harvey. 

"  This  ain't  no  weather,"  said  Dan.  "Why, 
you  an'  me  could  set  thet  trawl !  They  've 
only  gone  out  jest  far  'nough  so  's  not  to 
foul  our  cable.  They  don't  need  no  bell 
reelly." 

"  Clang  !  cling  !  clang  !  "  Harvey  kept  It 
up,  varied  with  occasional  rub-a-dubs,  for  an- 
other half-hour.  There  was  a  bellow  and  a 
bump  alongside.  Manuel  and  Dan  raced  to 
the  hooks  of  the  dory-tackle  ;  Long  Jack  and 
Tom  Piatt  arrived  on  deck  together,  it  seemed, 
one  half  the  North  Atlantic  at  their  backs,  and 
the  dory  followed  them  in  the  air,  landing  with 
a  clatter. 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  103 

"  Nary  snarl,"  said  Tom  Piatt  as  he  dripped. 
"  Danny,  you  '11  do  yet." 

"  The  pleasure  av  your  comp'ny  to  the  ban- 
quit,"  said  Long  Jack,  squelching  the  water 
from  his  boots  as  he  capered  like  an  elephant 
and  stuck  an  oil-skinned  arm  into  Harvey's 
face.  "We  do  be  condescending  to  honor 
the  second  half  wid  our  presence."  And  off 
they  all  four  rolled  to  supper,  where  Harvey 
stuffed  himself  to  the  brim  on  fish-chowder 
and  fried  pies,  and  fell  fast  asleep  just  as 
Manuel  produced  from  a  locker  a  lovely  two- 
foot  model  of  the  Lucy  Holmes,  his  first  boat, 
and  was  going  to  show  Harvey  the  ropes. 
Harvey  never  even  twiddled  his  fingers  as 
Pehn  pushed  him  into  his  bunk. 

"It  must  be  a  sad  thing  —  a  very  sad 
thing,"  said  Penn,  watching  the  boy's  face, 
"  for  his  mother  and  his  father,  who  think  he 
is  dead.  To  lose  a  child  —  to  lose  a  man- 
child  ! " 

"  Git  out  o'  this,  Penn,"  said  Dan.  "  Go 
aft  and  finish  your  game  with  Uncle  Salters. 
Tell  dad  I  '11  stand  Harve's  watch  ef  he  don't 
keen      He  's  played  aout." 

"  Ver'  good  boy,"  said  Manuel,  slipping  out 
of  his  boots  and  disappearing  into  the  black 


I04  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

shadows  of  the  lower  bunk.  "  Expec'  he 
make  good  man,  Danny.  I  no  see  he  is  any 
so  mad  as  your  parpa  he  says.     Eh,  wha-at?  " 

Dan  chuckled,  but  the  chuckle  ended  in  a 
snore. 

It  was  thick  weather  outside,  with  a  rising 
wind,  and  the  elder  men  stretched  their 
watches.  The  hours  struck  clear  in  the 
cabin ;  the  nosing  bows  slapped  and  scuffled 
with  the  seas ;  the  foc'sle  stove-pipe  hissed 
and  sputtered  as  the  spray  caught  it ;  and  the 
boys  slept  on,  while  Disko,  Long  Jack,  Tom 
Piatt,  and  Uncle  Salters,  each  in  turn,  stumped 
aft  to  look  at  the  wheel,  forward  to  see  that 
the  anchor  held,  or  to  veer  out  a  little  more 
cable  against  chafing,  with  a  glance  at  the 
dim  anchor-light  between  each  round. 


CHAPTER   IV 

HARVEY  waked  to  find  the  "  first  half" 
at  breakfast,  the  foc'sle  door  drawn  to  a 
crack,  and  every  square  inch  of  the^chooner 
singing  its  own  tune.  The  black  bulk  of  the 
cook  balanced  behind  the  tiny  galley  over  the 
glare  of  the  stove,  and  the  pots  and  pans  in 
the  pierced  wooden  board  before  it  jarred  and 
racketed  to  each  plunge.  Up  and  up  the 
foc'sle  climbed,  yearning  and  surging  and 
quivering,  and  then,  with  a  clear,  sickle-like 
swoop,  came  down  into  the  seas.  He  could 
hear  the  flaring  bows  cut  and  squelch,  and 
there  was  a  pause  ere  the  divided  waters  came 
down  on  the  deck  above,  like  a  volley  of 
buckshot.  Followed  the  woolly  sound  of  the 
cable  in  the  hawse-hole ;  a  grunt  and  squeal 
of  the  windlass ;  a  yaw,  a  punt,  and  a  kick, 
and  the  We  're  Here  gathered  herself  to- 
gether to  repeat  the  motions. 

"  Now,  ashore,"  he  heard  Long  Jack  say- 
X05 


lo6  "CAPTAn«lS   COURAGEOUS" 

ing,  **  ye  Ve  chores,  an'  ye  must  do  thim  in 
any  weather.  Here  we  're  well  clear  of  the 
fleet,  an'  we  've  no  chores  —  an'  that  's  a 
blessin'.  Good  night,  all."  He  passed  like  a 
big  snake  from  the  table  to  his  bunk,  and  be- 
oan  to  smoke.  Tom  Piatt  followed  his  ex- 
ample ;  Uncle  Salters,  with  Penn,  fought  his 
way  up  the  ladder  to  stand  his  watch,  and  the 
cook  set  for  the  "  second  half" 

It  came  out  of  its  bunks  as  the  others  had 
entered  theirs,  with  a  shake  and  a  yawn.  It 
ate  till  it  could  eat  no  more ;  and  then  Man- 
uel filled  his  pipe  with  some  terrible  tobacco, 
crotched  himself  between  the  pawl-post  and  a 
forward  bunk,  cocked  his  feet  up  on  the  table, 
and  smiled  tender  and  indolent  smiles  at  the 
smoke.  Dan  lay  at  length  in  his  bunk,  wres- 
tling with  a  gaudy,  gilt-stopped  accordion, 
whose  tunes  went  up  and  down  with  the 
pitching  of  the  We  're  Here.  The  cook,  his 
shoulders  against  the  locker  where  he  kept 
the  fried  pies  (Dan  was  fond  of  fried  pies), 
peeled  potatoes,  with  one  eye  on  the  stove  in 
event  of  too  much  water  finding  its  way  down 
the  pipe ;  and  the  general  smell  and_smother 
were  past  all  description. 

Harvey   considered   affairs,   wondered   that 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  107 

he  was  not  deathly  sick,  and  crawled  into  his 
bunk  again,  as  the  softest  and  safest  place, 
while  Dan  struck  up,  "  I  don't  want  to  play  in 
your  yard,"  as  accurately  as  the  wild  je-ks 
allowed. 

"  How  long  is  this  for?"  Harvey  asked  of 
Manuel. 

"  Till  she  get  a  little  quiet,  and  we  can  row 
to  trawl.  Perhaps  to-night.  Perhaps  two 
days  more.     You  do  not  like?    Eh,  wha-at?" 

"  I  should  have  been  crazy  sick  a  week  ago, 
but  it  does  n't  seem  to  upset  me  now — much." 

"  That  is  because  we  make  you  fisherman, 
these  days.  If  I  was  you,  when  I  come  to 
Gloucester  I  would  give  two,  three  big  can- 
dles for  my  good  luck." 

**  Give  who  ?  " 

"To  be  sure  —  the  Virgin  of  our  Church 
on  the  Hill.  She  is  very  good  to  fishermen 
all  the  time.  That  is  why  so  few  of  us  Portu- 
gee  men  ever  are  drowned." 

"  You  're  a  Roman  Catholic,  then  ?  " 

"  I  am  a  Madeira  man.  I  am  not  a  Porto 
Pico  boy.  Shall  I  be  Baptist,  then  ?  Eh, 
wha-at?  I  always  give  candles — two,  three 
more  when  I  come  to  Gloucester.  The  good 
Virgin  she  never  forgets  me,  Manuel." 


io8  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

"  I  don't  sense  it  that  way,"  Tom  Piatt 
put  in  from  his  bunk,  his  scarred  face  lit 
up  by  the  glare  of  a  match  as  he  sucked 
at  his  pipe.  "  It  stands  to  reason  the 
sea  's  the  sea ;  and  you  '11  git  jest  about 
what  's  goin',  candles  or  kerosene,  fer  that 
matter." 

"  'T  is  a  mighty  good  thing,"  said  Long 
Jack,  "  to  have  a  frind  at  coort,  though. 
I  'm  o'  Manuel's  way  o'  thinkin'.  About 
tin  years  back  I  was  crew  to  a  Sou'  Boston 
market-boat.  We  was  off  Minot's  Ledge 
wid  a  northeaster,  butt  first,  atop  of  us, 
thicker  'n  burgoo.  The  ould  man  was  dhrunk, 
his  chin  waggin'  on  the  tiller,  an'  I  sez  to 
myself,  '  If  iver  I  stick  my  boat-huk  into 
T-wharf  again,  I  '11  show  the  saints  fwhat 
manner  o'  craft  they  saved  me  out  av.'  Now, 
I  'm  here,  as  ye  can  well  see,  an'  the  model  of 
the  dhirty  ould  Kathleen,  that  took  me  a  month 
to  make,  I  gave  ut  to  the  priest,  an'  he  hung 
ut  up  forninst  the  altar.  There  's  more  sense 
in  givin'  a  model  that  's  by  way  o'  bein' 
a  work  av  art  than  any  candle.  Ye  can 
buy.  candles  at  store,  but  a  model  shows 
the  good  saints  ye  've  tuk  trouble  an'  are 
grateful." 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  109 

**  D*  you  believe  that,  Irish?"  said  Tom 
Piatt,  turning  on  his  elbow. 

"Would  I  do  ut  if  I  did  not,  Ohio?" 

"  Wa-al,  Enoch  Fuller  he  made  a  model  o' 
the  old  Ohio,  and  she  's  to  Salem  museum 
now.  Mighty  pretty  model,  too,  but  I  guess 
Enoch  he  never  done  it  fer  no  sacrifice ;  an' 
the  way  I  take  it  is — " 

There  were  the  makino-s  of  an  hour-longf 
discussion  of  the  kind  that  fishermen  love, 
where  the  talk  runs  in  shouting  circles  and 
no  one  proves  anything  at  the  end,  had  not 
Dan  struck  up  this  cheerful  rhyme : 

"  Up  jumped  the  mackerel  with  his  striped  back. 
Reef  in  the  mainsail,  and  haul  on  the  tack ; 
For  it  's  windy  weather  — " 

Here  Long  Jack  joined  in  : 

^^  And  it 's  blowy  weather; 
When  the  winds  begin  to  blow,  pipe  all  hands  together !  " 

Dan  went  on,  with  a  cautious  look  at 
Tom  Piatt,  holding  the  accordion  low  in  the 
bunk: 

"  Up  jumped  the  cod  with  his  chuckle-head, 
Went  to  the  main-chains  to  heave  at  the  lead  j 
For  it 's  windy  weather,"  etc. 


no  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

Tom  Piatt  seemed  to  be  hunting  for  some- 
thing.    Dan  crouched  lower,  but  sang  louder: 

"  Up  jumped  the  flounder  that  swims  to  the  ground. 
Chuckle-head !  Chuckle-head !  Mind  where  ye  sound  !  " 

Tom  Piatt's  huge  rubber  boot  whirled 
across  the  foc'sle  and  caught  Dan's  uplifted 
arm.  There  was  war  between  the  man  and 
the  boy  ever  since  Dan  had  discovered  that 
the  mere  whistling  of  that  tune  would  make 
him  angry  as  he  heaved  the  lead. 

"Thought  I  'd  fetch  yer,"  said  Dan,  return- 
ing the  gift  with  precision.  "  Ef  you  don't 
like  my  music,  git  out  your  fiddle.  I  ain't 
goin'  to  lie  here  all  day  an'  listen  to  you  an' 
Long  Jack  arguin'  'baout  candles.  Fiddle, 
Tom  Piatt;  or  I  '11  learn  Harve  here  the 
tune ! " 

Tom  Piatt  leaned  down  to  a  locker  and 
brought  up  an  old  white  fiddle.  Manuel's 
eye  glistened,  and  from  somewhere  behind 
the  pawl-post  he  drew  out  a  tiny,  guitar- 
like thing  with  wire  strings,  which  he  called 
a  nachette. 

"  'T  is  a  concert,"  said  Long  Jack,  beam- 
ing through  the  smoke.  "  A  reg'lar  Boston 
concert." 


O    J. 


:  w 
o 


"CAPTAINS    COURAGEOUS"  113 

There  was  a  burst  of  spray  as  the  hatch 
opened,  and  Disko,  in  yellow  oilskins,  de- 
scended. 

"  Ye  're  just  in  time,  Disko.  Fwhat  's 
she  doin'  outside  ?  " 

"  Jest  this  !  "  He  dropped  on  to  the  lock- 
ers with  the  push  and  heave  of  the  We  're 
Here. 

"  We  're  singin'  to  kape  our  breakfasts 
down.  Ye  '11  lead,  av  course,  Disko,"  said 
Long  Jack. 

"  Guess  there  ain't  more  'n  'baout  two  old 
songs  I  know,  an'  ye  've  heerd  them  both." 

His  excuses  were  cut  short  by  Tom  Piatt 
launching  into  a  most  dolorous  tune,  like 
unto  the  moaning  of  winds  and  the  creaking 
of  masts.  With  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  beams 
above,  Disko  began  this  ancient,  ancient 
ditty,  Tom  Piatt  flourishing  all  round  him  to 
make  the  tune  and  words  fit  a  little : 

"  There  is  a  crack  packet  —  crack  packet  o'  fame, 
She  hails  from  Noo  York,  an'  the  Dreadtiought  's  her 

name. 
You  may  talk  o'  your  fliers  —  Swallow-tail  and  Black 

Ball  — 
But  the  Dreadnought  's  the  packet  that  can  beat  them 

all. 


114  "CAPTAINS    COURAGEOUS" 

"  Now  the  Dreadnought  she  lies  in  the  River  Mersey, 
Because  of  the  tug-boat  to  take  her  to  sea ; 
But  when  she  's  off  soundings  you  shortly  will  know 

{Chorus.) 
She  's  the  Liverpool  packet  —  O  Lord,  let  her  go ! 

"  Now  the  Dreadnought  she  's  howlin'  'crost  the  Banks  o' 
Newfoundland, 
Where  the  water  's  all  shallow  and  the  bottom 's  all  sand. 
Sez  all  the  little  fishes  that  swim  to  an  fro  : 

[Chorus.) 
*  She  's  the  Liverpool  packet  —  O  Lord,  let  her  go !  * " 

There  were  scores  of  verses,  for  he  worked 
the  Di'eadnoiight  every  mile  of  the  way 
between  Liverpool  and  New  York  as  con- 
scientiously as  though  he  were  on  her  deck, 
and  the  accordion  pumped  and  the  fiddle 
squeaked  beside  him.  Tom  Piatt  followed 
with  something  about  "the  rough  and  tough 
McGinn,  who  would  pilot  the  vessel  in." 
Then  they  called  on  Harvey,  who  felt  very 
flattered,  to  contribute  to  the  entertainment ; 
but  all  that  he  could  remember  were  some 
pieces  of  "  Skipper  Ireson's  Ride  "  that  he 
had  been  taught  at  the  camp-school  in  the 
Adirondacks.  It  seemed  that  they  might  be 
appropriate  to  the  time  and  place,  but  he  had 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  115 

no  more  than  mentioned  the  title  when  Disko 
brought  down  one  foot  with  a  bang,  and  cried, 
**  Don't  go  on,  young  feller.  That  's  a  mis- 
taken jedgment  —  one  o'  the  worst  kind,  too, 
becaze  it  's  catchin'  to  the  ear." 

"  I  orter  ha'  warned  you,"  said  Dan.  "  Thet 
alius  fetches  dad." 

"What's  wrong?"  said  Harvey,  surprised 
and  a  little  angry. 

"  All  you  're  goin'  to  say,"  said  Disko.  "All 
dead  wrong  from  start  to  finish,  an'  Whittier 
he  's  to  blame.  I  have  no  special  call  to  right 
any  Marblehead  man,  but  't  were  n't  no  fault 
o'  Ireson's.  My  father  he  told  me  the  tale 
time  an'  again,  an'  this  is  the  way  't  wuz." 

"  For  the  wan  hundredth  time,"  put  in  Long 
Jack  under  his  breath. 

"  Ben  Ireson  he  was  skipper  o'  the  Betty, 
young  feller,  comin'  home  frum  the  Banks  — 
that  was  before  the  war  of  181  2,  but  jestice 
is  jestice  at  all  times.  They  fund  the  Active 
o'  Portland,  an'  Gibbons  o'  that  town  he  was 
her  skipper ;  they  fund  her  leakin'  off  Cape 
Cod  Light.  There  was  a  terr'ble  gale  on,  an' 
they  was  gettin'  the  Betty  home  's  fast  as  they 
could  craowd  her.  Well,  Ireson  he  said  there 
war  n't  any  sense  to  reskin'  a  boat  in  that  sea ; 


Ii6  "CAPTAINS    COURAGEOUS" 

the  men  they  would  n't  hev  it ;  and  he  laid  it 
before  them  to  stay  by  the  Active  till  the  sea  run 
daown  a  piece.  They  would  n't  hev  that  either, 
hangin'  araound  the  Cape  in  any  sech  weather, 
leak  or  no  leak.  They  jest  up  stays'l  an' 
quit,  nat'rally  takin'  Ireson  with  'em.  Folks 
to  Marblehead  was  mad  at  him  not  runnin'  the 
risk,  and  becaze  nex'  day,  when  the  sea  was 
ca'am  (they  never  stopped  to  think  o'  that), 
some  of  the  Actives  folk  was  took  off  by  a 
Truro  man.  They  come  into  Marblehead  with 
their  own  tale  to  tell,  sayin'  how  Ireson  had 
shamed  his  town,  an'  so  forth  an'  so  on ;  an' 
Ireson's  men  they  was  scared,  seein'  public 
feelin'  agin'  'em,  an'  they  went  back  on  Ireson, 
an'  swore  he  was  respons'ble  for  the  hull  act. 
'T  were  n't  the  women  neither  that  tarred  and 
feathered  him  —  Marblehead  women  don't  act 
that  way — 't  was  a  passel  o'  men  an'  boys,  an' 
they  carted  him  araound  town  in  an  old  dory 
till  the  bottom  fell  aout,  an'  Ireson  he  told  'em 
they  'd  be  sorry  for  it  some  day.  Well,  the  facts 
come  aout  later,  same  's  they  usually  do,  too 
late  to  be  any  ways  useful  to  an  honest  man ; 
an'  Whittier  he  come  along  an'  picked  up  the 
slack  eend  of  a  lyin'  tale,  an'  tarred  and  fea 
thered  Ben  Ireson  all  over  onct  more  after  he 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  117 

was  dead.  'T  was  the  only  time  Whittier  ever 
slipped  up,  an'  't  were  n't  fair.  I  whaled  Dan 
good  when  he  brought  that  piece  back  from 
school.  You  don't  know  no  better,  o'  course ; 
but  I  've  give  you  the  facts,  hereafter  an'  ever- 
more to  be  remembered.  Ben  Ireson  were  n't 
no  sech  kind  o'  man  as  Whittier  makes  aout ; 
my  father  he  knew  him  well,  before  an'  after 
that  business,  an'  you  beware  o'  hasty  jedg- 
ments,  young  feller.     Next !  " 

Harvey  had  never  heard  Disko  talk  so  long, 
and  collapsed  with  burning  cheeks ;  but,  as 
Dan  said  promptly,  a  boy  could  only  learn 
what  he  was  taught  at  school,  and  life  was  too 
short  to  keep  track  of  every  lie  along  the  coast. 

Then  Manuel  touched  the  jangling,  jarring 
little  nackette  to  a  queer  tune,  and  sang  some- 
thing in  Portuguese  about  ''Nina,  innocentef' 
ending  with  a  full-handed  sweep  that  brought 
the  song  up  with  a  jerk.  Then  Disko  obliged 
with  his  second  song,  to  an  old-fashioned 
creaky  tune,  and  all  joined  in  the  chorus. 
This  is  one  stanza : 

*'  Now  Aprile  is  over  and  melted  the  snow, 
And  outer  Noo  Bedford  we  shortly  must  towj 
Yes,  out  o'  Noo  Bedford  we  shortly  must  clear, 
We  're  the  whalers  that  never  see  wheat  in  the  ear." 
9 


ii8  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

Here  the  fiddle  went  very  softly  for  a  while 
by  itself,  and  then : 

"  Wheat-in-the-ear,  my  true-love's  posyblowin'j 
Wheat-in-the-ear,  we  're  goin'  off  to  sea ; 
Wheat-in-the-ear,  I  left  you  fit  for  sowin' ; 
When  I  come  back  a  loaf  o'  bread  you  '11  be  I " 

That  made  Harvey  almost  weep,  though  he 
could  not  tell  why.  But  it  was  much  worse 
when  the  cook  dropped  the  potatoes  and  held 
out  his  hands  for  the  fiddle.  Still  leaning 
against  the  locker  door,  he  struck  into  a  tune 
that  was  like  something  very  bad  but  sure  to 
happen  whatever  you  did.  After  a  little  he 
sang,  in  an  unknown  tongue,  his  big  chin 
down  on  the  fiddle-tail,  his  white  eyeballs 
glaring  in  the  lamp-light.  Harvey  swung  out 
of  his  bunk  to  hear  better ;  and  amid  the 
straining  of  the  timbers  and  the  wash  of  the 
waters  the  tune  crooned  and  moaned  on,  like 
lee  surf  in  a  blind  fog,  till  it  ended  with  a 
wail. 

"  Jiminy  Christmas !  Thet  gives  me  the 
blue  creevles,"  said  Dan.  "  What  in  thunder 
is  it?" 

"The  song  of  Fin  McCoul,"  said  the  cook, 
"  when  he  wass  going  to  Norway."     His  Eng- 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  119 

lish  was  not  thick,  but  all  clear-cut,  as  though 
it  came  from  a  phonograph. 

"  Faith,  I  've  l^en  to  Norway,  but  I  did  n't 
make  that  unwholesim  noise.  'T  is  like  some 
of  the  old  songs,  though,"  said  Long  Jack, 
sighing. 

"  Don't  let 's  hev  another  'thout  somethin' 
between,"  said  Dan;  and  the  accordion  struck 
up  a  rattling,  catchy  tune  that  ended : 

"  It 's  six  an'  twenty  Sundays  sence  las'  we  saw  the  land, 
With  fifteen  hunder  quintal, 
An'  fifteen  hunder  quintal, 
'Teen  hunder  toppin'  quintal, 
*Twix'  old  'Queereau  an'  Grand  I " 

"  Hold  on  !  "  roared  Tom  Piatt.  "D'  ye 
want  to  nail  the  trip,  Dan  ?  That  's  Jonah 
sure,  'less  you  sing  it  after  all  our  salt  's  wet." 

"No,  't  ain't.  Is  it,  dad?  Not  unless  you 
sing  the  very  las'  verse.  You  can't  learn  77ie 
anything  on  Jonahs  !  " 

"What's  that?"  said  Harvey.  "What's 
a  Jonah  ?  " 

"A  Jonah's  anything  that  spoils  the  luck. 
Sometimes  it 's  a  man  —  sometimes  it's  a  boy — 
or  a  bucket.  I  've  known  a  splittin'-knife  Jo- 
nah two  trips  till  we  was  on  to  her,"  said  Tom 


I20  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

Piatt.  "  There  's  all  sorts  o'  Jonahs.  Jim 
Bourke  was  one  till  he  was  drowned  on 
Georges.  I  'd  never  ship  with  Jim  Bourke, 
not  if  I  was  starvin'.  There  wuz  a  green  dory 
on  the  Ez7^a  Flood.  Thet  was  a  Jonah  too, 
the  worst  sort  o'  Jonah.  Drowned  four  men 
she  did,  an'  used  to  shine  fiery  o'  nights  in 
the  nest." 

"And  you  believe  that?"  said  Harvey,  re- 
membering what  Tom  Piatt  had  said  about 
candles  and  models.  "  Have  n't  we  all  got 
to  take  what  's  served  ?  " 

A  mutter  of  dissent  ran  round  the  bunks. 
"Outboard,  yes;  inboard,  things  can  hap- 
pen," said  Disko.  "  Don't  you  go  makin'  a 
mock  of  Jonahs,  young  feller." 

"  Well,  Harve  ain't  no  Jonah.  Day  after 
we  catched  him,"  Dan  cut  in,  "we  had  a 
toppin'  good  catch." 

The  cook  threw  up  his  head  and  laughed 
suddenly  —  a  queer,  thin  laugh.  He  was  a 
most  disconcerting  nigger. 

"  Murder !  "  said  Long  Jack.  "  Don't  do 
that  again,  doctor.     We  ain't  used  to  ut." 

"What  's  wrongf?"  said  Dan.  "Ain't  he 
our  mascot,  and  did  n't  they  strike  on  good 
after  we  'd  struck  him  ?  " 


**  CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  121 

"  Oh  !  yess,"  said  the  cook.  "  I  know  that, 
but  the  catch  iss  not  finish  yet." 

"  He  ain't  goin'  to  do  us  any  harm,"  said 
Dan,  hotly.  "  Where  are  ye  hintin'  an'  edgin' 
to  ?     He  's  all  right." 

"  No  harm.  No.  But  one  day  he  will  be 
your  master,  Danny." 

"That  all?"  said  Dan,  placidly.  "He 
wun't  —  not  by  a  jugful." 

"  Master!  "  said  the  cook,  pointing  to  Har- 
vey.    "  Man  !  "  and  he  pointed  to  Dan. 

"That  's  news.  Haow  soon?"  said  Dan, 
with  a  laugh. 

"  In  some  years,  and  I  shall  see  it.  Master 
and  man  —  man  and  master." 

"  How  in  thunder  d'  ye  work  that  out  ? " 
said  Tom  Piatt. 

"  In  my  head,  where  I  can  see." 

"  Haow  ?  "    This  from  all  the  others  at  once. 

"  I  do  not  know,  but  so  it  will  be."  He 
dropped  his  head,  and  went  on  peeling  the 
potatoes,  and  not  another  word  could  they 
get  out  of  him. 

"Well,"  said  Dan,  "a  heap  o'  things  '11  hev 
to  come  abaout  'fore  Harve  's  any  master  o' 
mine  ;  but  I  'm  glad  the  doctor  ain't  choosen 
to  mark  him  for  a  Jonah.     Now,  I  mistrust 


122  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

Uncle  Salters  fer  the  Jonerest  Jonah  in  the 
fleet  regardin'  his  own  special  luck.  Dunno 
ef  it  's  spreadin'  same  's  smallpox.  He  ought 
to  be  on  the  Carrie  Pitman.  That  boat  's 
her  own  Jonah,  sure  —  crews  an'  gear  make 
no  differ  to  her  driftin'.  Jiminy  Christmas! 
She  '11  etch  loose  in  a  flat  ca'am." 

"We  're  well  clear  o'  the  fleet,  anyway," 
said  Disko.  "  Ca^^rie  Pitman  an'  all."  There 
was  a  rapping  on  the  deck. 

"  Uncle  Salters  has  catched  his  luck,"  said 
Dan  as  his  father  departed. 

"  It 's  blown  clear,"  Disko  cried,  and  all  the 
foc'sle  tumbled  up  for  a  bit  of  fresh  air.  The 
fog  had  gone,  but  a  sullen  sea  ran  in  great 
rollers  behind  it.  The  We  're  Here  slid,  as  it 
were,  into  long,  sunk  avenues  and  ditches 
which  felt  quite  sheltered  and  homelike  if  they 
would  only  stay  still ;  but  they  changed  with- 
out rest  or  mercy,  and  flung  up  the  schooner 
to  crown  one  peak  of  a  thousand  gray  hills, 
while  the  wind  hooted  through  her  rigging  as 
she  zigzagged  down  the  slopes.  Far  away  a 
sea  would  burst  in  a  sheet  of  foam,  and  the 
others  would  follow  suit  as  at  a  signal,  till 
Harvey's  eyes  swam  with  the  vision  of  inter- 
lacing whites  and  grays.    Four  or  five  Mother 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  123 

Carey's  chickens  stormed  round  in  circles, 
shrieking  as  they  swept  past  the  bows.  A 
rain-squall  or  two  strayed  aimlessly  over  the 
hopeless  waste,  ran  down  wind  and  back 
again,   and  melted  away. 

"  Seems  to  me  I  saw  somethin'  flicker  jest 
naow  over  yonder,"  said  Uncle  Salters,  point- 
ing to  the  northeast. 

"  Can't  be  any  of  the  fleet,"  said  Disko, 
peering  under  his  eyebrows,  a  hand  on  the 
foc'sle  gangway  as  the  solid  bows  hatcheted 
into  the  troughs.  "  Sea  's  oilin'  over  dretful 
fast.  Danny,  don't  you  want  to  skip  up  a 
piece  an'  see  how  aour  trawl-buoy  lays  ? " 

Danny,  in  his  big  boots,  trotted  rather  than 
climbed  up  the  main  rigging  (this  consumed 
Harvey  with  envy),  hitched  himself  around 
the  reeling  cross-trees,  and  let  his  eye  rove 
till  it  caught  the  tiny  black  buoy-flag  on  the 
shoulder  of  a  mile-away  swell. 

"She's  all  right,"  he  hailed.  "Sail  O! 
Dead  to  the  no'th'ard,  comin'  down  like 
smoke !     Schooner  she  be,   too." 

They  waited  yet  another  half- hour,  the  sky 
clearing  in  patches,  with  a  flicker  of  sickly 
sun  from  time  to  time  that  made  patches  of 
olive-green  water.     Then    a    stump-foremast 


124  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

lifted,  ducked,  and  disappeared,  to  be  followed 
on  the  next  wave  by  a  high  stern  with  old- 
fashioned  wooden  snail's-horn  davits.  The 
sails  were  red-tanned. 

"  Frenchmen  !  "  shouted  Dan.  "  No,  't  ain't, 
neither.     Da-ad !  " 

"That  's  no  French,"  said  Disko.  "  Sal- 
ters,  your  blame  luck  holds  tighter  'n  a  screw 
in  a  keg-head." 

"  I  've  eyes.     It 's  Uncle  Abishai." 

"  You  can't  nowise  tell  fer  sure." 

"The  head-king  of  all  Jonahs,"  groaned 
Tom  Piatt.  "  Oh,  Salters,  Salters,  why  was  n't 
you  abed  an'  asleep  ?  " 

"How  could  I  tell?"  said  poor  Salters,  as 
the  schooner  swung  up. 

She  might  have  been  the  very  Flyi7tg 
Dutchman,  so  foul,  draggled,  and  unkempt 
was  every  rope  and  stick  aboard.  Her  old- 
style  quarterdeck  was  some  four  or  five  feet 
high,  and  her  rigging  flew  knotted  and  tan- 
gled like  weed  at  a  wharf-end.  She  was  run- 
ning before  the  wind — yawing  frightfully — 
her  staysail  let  down  to  act  as  a  sort  of  extra 
foresail, — "scandalized,"  they  call  it, — and  her 
foreboom  guyed  out  over  the  side.  Her 
bowsprit    cocked    up    like    an    old-fashioned 


"CAPTAINS    COURAGEOUS"  125 

frigate's ;  her  jib-boom  had  been  fished  and 
spliced  and  nailed  and  clamped  beyond  fur- 
ther repair ;  and  as  she  hove  herself  forward, 
and  sat  down  on  her  broad  tail,  she  looked 
for  all  the  world  like  a  blouzy,  frouzy,  bad  old 
woman  sneering  at  a  decent  girl. 

"That  's  Abishai,"  said  Salters.  "Full  o' 
gin  an'  Judique  men,  an'  the  judgments  o' 
Providence  layin'  fer  him  an'  never  takin' 
good  holt.  He  's  run  in  to  bait,  Miquelon 
way." 

"  He  '11  run  her  under,"  said  Long  Jack 
"That  's  no  rig  fer  this  weather." 

"Not  he,  'r  he  'd  'a'  done  it  long  ago,"  Disko 
replied.  "  Looks  's  if  he  cal'lated  to  run  us 
under.  Ain't  she  daown  by  the  head  more  'n 
natural,  Tom  Piatt  ?  " 

"  Ef  it  's  his  style  o'  loadin'  her  she  ain't 
safe,"  said  the  sailor  slowly.  "  Ef  she  's 
spewed  her  oakum  he  'd  better  git  to  his 
pumps  mighty  quick." 

The  creature  threshed  up,  wore  round  with 
a  clatter  and  rattle,  and  lay  head  to  wind 
within  ear- shot. 

A  gray-beard  wagged  over  the  bulwark, 
and  a  thick  voice  yelled  something  Harvey 
could  not  understand.     But  Disko's  face  dark- 


126  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

ened.  "  He  'd  resk  every  stick  he  hez  to 
carry  bad  news.  Says  we  're  in  fer  a  shift  o' 
wind.  He  's  in  fer  worse.  Abishai !  Abi- 
shai !  "  He  waved  his  arm  up  and  down  with 
the  gesture  of  a  man  at  the  pumps,  and  pointed 
forward.     The  crew  mocked  him  and  laughed. 

"  Jounce  ye,  an'  strip  ye,  an'  trip  ye !  " 
yelled  Uncle  Abishai.  "Alivin'gale — a  livin' 
gale.  Yah  !  Cast  up  fer  your  last  trip,  all 
you  Gloucester  haddocks.  You  won't  see 
Gloucester  no  more,  no  more  !  " 

"Crazy  full  —  as  usual,"  said  Tom  Piatt. 
"  Wish  he  had  n't  spied  us,  though." 

She  drifted  out  of  hearing  while  the  gray- 
head   yelled  something  about  a  dance  at  the 
Bay  of  Bulls   and  a  dead   man   in  the  foc'sle 
Harvey  shuddered.      He  had  seen  the  sloven 
tilled  decks  and  the  savage-eyed  crew. 

"An'  that  's  a  fine  little  floatin'  hell  fer  her 
draught,"  said  Long  Jack.  "  I  wondher  what 
mischief  he  's  been  at  ashore." 

"  He  's  a  trawler,"  Dan  explained  to  Har- 
vey, "  an'  he  runs  in  fer  bait  all  along  the 
coast.  Oh,  no,  not  home,  he  don't  go.  He 
deals  along  the  south  an'  east  shore  up  yon- 
der." He  nodded  in  the  direction  of  the  piti- 
less   Newfoundland    beaches.       "  Dad    won't 


"CAPTAINS  COURAGEOUS"  127 

never  take  me  ashore  there.  They  're  a  mighty 
tough  crowd  —  an'  Ablshai  's  the  toughest. 
You  saw  his  boat  ?  Well,  she  's  nigh  seventy 
year  old,  they  say ;  the  last  o'  the  old  Marble- 
head  heel-tappers.  They  don't  make  them 
quarterdecks  any  more.  Abishai  don't  use 
Marblehead,  though.  He  ain't  wanted  there. 
He  jes*  drif's  araound,  in  debt,  trawlin'  an' 
cussin'  like  you  've  heard.  Bin  a  Jonah  fer 
years  an'  years,  he  hez.  'Gits  liquor  frum  the 
Feecamp  boats  fer  makin'  spells  an'  selling 
winds  an*  such  truck.     Crazy,  I  guess." 

**'T  won't  be  any  use  underrunnin'  the 
trawl  to-night,"  said  Tom  Piatt,  with  quiet 
despair.  **  He  come  alongside  special  to 
cuss  us.  I  'd  give  my  wage  an'  share  to  see 
him  at  the  gangway  o'  the  old  Ohio  'fore  we 
quit  floggin'.  Jest  abaout  six  dozen,  an'  Sam 
Mocatta  layin'  'em  on  criss-cross  !  " 

The  disheveled  "heel-tapper"  danced 
drunkenly  down  wind,  and  all  eyes  followed 
her.  Suddenly  the  cook  cried  in  his  phono- 
graph voice:  "It  wass  his  own  death  made 
him  speak  so  !  He  iss  fey  —  fey,  I  tell  you  ! 
Look!"  She  sailed  into  a  patch  of  watery 
sunshine  three  or  four  miles  distant.  The 
patch  dulled  and  faded  nnt.  and  even  as  the 


128  "CAPTAINS    COURAGEOUS" 

light  passed  so  did  the  schooner.  She 
dropped   into  a  hollow   and  —  was  not. 

"Run  under,  by  the  Great  Hook-Block!" 
shouted  Disko,  jumping  aft.  "  Drunk  or 
sober,  we  've  got  to  help  'em.  Heave  short 
and  break  her  out  1     Smart !  " 

Harvey  was  thrown  on  the  deck  by  the 
shock  that  followed  the  setting  of  the  jib  and 
foresail,  for  they  hove  short  on  the  cable,  and 
to  save  time,  jerked  the  anchor  bodily  from 
the  bottom,  heaving  in  as  they  moved  away. 
This  is  a  bit  of  brute  force  seldom  resorted  to 
except  in  matters  of  life  and  death,  and  the 
little  We  're  Here  complained  like  a  human. 
They  ran  down  to  where  Abishai's  craft  had 
vanished;  found  two  or  three  trawl-tubs,  a 
-gin-bottle,  and  a  stove-in  dory,  but  nothing 
more.  "  Let  'em  go,"  said  Disko,  though  no 
one  had  hinted  at  picking  them  up.  "  I 
would  n't  hev  a  match  that  belonged  to  Abi- 
shai  aboard.  Guess  she  run  clear  under. 
Must  ha'  been  spewin'  her  oakum  fer  a  week, 
an'  they  never  thought  to  pump  her.  That  's 
one  more  boat  gone  along  o'  leavin'  port  all 
hands  drunk." 

"  Glory  be  ! "  said  Long  Jack.  "  We  'd  ha 
been  obliged  to  help  'em  if  they  was  top  o* 
water." 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  131 

"'Thinkin'  o'  that  myself,"  said  Tom  Piatt. 

"Fey!  Fey!"  said  the  cook,  rolling  his 
eyes.  "  He  hass  taken  his  own  luck  with 
him." 

"Ver'  good  thing,  I  think,  to  tell  the  Fleet 
when  we  see.  Eh,  wha-at  ? "  said  Manuel. 
"  If  you  runna  that  way  before  the  wind,  and 
she  work  open  her  seams — "  He  threw  out 
his  hands  with  an  indescribable  gesture,  while 
Penn  sat  down  on  the  house  and  sobbed  at 
the  sheer  horror  and  pity  of  it  all.  Harvey 
could  not  realize  that  he  had  seen  death  on 
the  open  waters,  but  he  felt  very  sick. 

Then  Dan  went  up  the  cross-trees,  and 
Disko  steered  them  back  to  within  sight  of 
their  own  trawl-buoys  just  before  the  fog 
blanketed  the  sea  once  again. 

"  We  go  mighty  quick  hereabouts  when 
we  do  go,"  was  all  he  said  to  Harvey.  '*  You 
think  on  that  fer  a  spell,  young  feller.  That 
was  liquor." 

After  dinner  it  was  calm  enough  to  fish 
from  the  decks, — Penn  and  Uncle  Salters  were 
very  zealous  this  time, —  and  the  catch  was 
large  and  large  fish. 

"  Abishai  has  shorely  took  his  luck  with 
him."  said  Salters.     "  The  wind  hain't  backed 


132  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

ner  riz  ner  nothin'.  How  abaout  the  trawl  ? 
I  despise  superstition,  anyway." 

Tom  Piatt  insisted  that  they  had  much  bet- 
ter haul  the  thing  and  make  a  new  berth. 
But  the  cook  said :  "  The  luck  iss  in  two 
pieces.  You  will  find  it  so  when  you  look. 
/  know."  This  so  tickled  Long  Jack  that  he 
overbore  Tom  Piatt,  and  the  two  went  out 
together. 

Underrunniirg  a  trawl  means  pulling  it  in 
on  one  side  of  the  dory,  picking  off  the  fish, 
rebaiting  the  hooks,  and  passing  them  back 
to  the  sea  again — something  like  pinning  and 
unpinning  linen  on  a  wash-line.  It  is  a 
lengthy  business  and  rather  dangerous,  for 
the  long,  sagging  line  may  twitch  a  boat  un- 
der in  a  flash.  But  when  they  heard,  "And 
naow  to  thee,  O  Capting,"  booming  out  of  the 
fog,  the  crew  of  the  We're  Hei^e. took  heart. 
The  dory  swirled  alongside  well  loaded,  Tom 
Piatt  yelling  for  Manuel  to  act  as  relief-boat. 

"The  luck  's  cut  square  in  two  pieces,"  said 
Long  Jack,  forking  in  the  fish,  while  Harvey 
stood  open-mouthed  at  the  skill  with  which 
the  plunging  dory  was  saved  from  destruction. 
"  One  half  was  jest  punkins.  Tom  Piatt 
wanted  to  haul  her  an'  ha'  done  wid  ut ;  but  I 


"CAPTAINS    COURAGEOUS"  133 

said,  *  I  '11  back  the  doctor  that  has  the  second 
sight,'  an'  the  other  half  come  up  sagging  full 
o'  big  uns.  Hurry,  Man'nie,  an'  bring  's  a 
tub  o'  bait.     There  's  luck  afloat  to-night." 

The  fish  bit  at  the  newly  baited  hooks  from 
which  their  brethren  had  just  been  taken,  and 
Tom  Piatt  and  Long  Jack  moved  methodically 
up  and  down  the  length  of  the  trawl,  the  boat's 
nose  surging  under  the  wet  line  of  hooks, 
stripping  the  sea-cucumbers  that  they  called 
pumpkins,  slatting  off  the  fresh-caught  cod 
against  the  gunwale,  rebaiting,  and  loading 
Manuel's  dory  till  dusk. 

"  I  '11  take  no  risks,"  said  Disko  then — "  not 
with  him  floatin'  around  so  near.  Abishai 
won't  sink  fer  a  week.  Heave  in  the  dories, 
an'  we  '11  dress  daown  after  supper." 

That  was  a  mighty  dressing-down,  attended 
by  three  oj  four  blowing  grampuses.  It  lasted 
till  nine  o'clock,  and  Disko  was  thrice  heard 
to  chuckle  as  Harvey  pitched  the  split  fish 
into  the  hold. 

"  Say,  you  're  haulin'  ahead  dretful  fast," 
said  Dan,  when  they  ground  the  knives  after 
the  men  had  turned  in.  "  There  's  somethin' 
of  a  sea  to-night,  an'  I  hain't  heard  you  make 
no  remarks  on  it." 


134  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

"Too  busy,"  Harvey  replied,  testing  a 
blade's  edge.  "  Come  to  think  of  it,  she  is 
a  high-kicker." 

The  little  schooner  was  gamboling  all 
around  her  anchor  among  the  silver-tipped 
waves.  Backing  with  a  start  of  affected  sur- 
prise at  the  sight  of  the  strained  cable,  she 
pounced  on  it  like  a  kitten,  while  the  spray 
of  her  descent  burst  through  the  hawse-holes 
with  the  report  of  a  gun.  Shaking  her  head, 
she  would  say :  "  Well,  I  'm  sorry  I  can't  stay 
any  longer  with  you.  I  'm  going  North,"  and 
would  sidle  off,  halting  suddenly  with  a  dra- 
matic rattle  of  her  rigging,  "As  I  was  just 
going  to  observe,"  she  would  begin,  as  gravely 
as  a  drunken  man  addressing  a  lamp-post.  The 
rest  of  the  sentence  (she  acted  her  words  in 
dumb-show,  of  course)  was  lost  in  a  fit  of  the 
fidgets,  when  she  behaved  like  a  puppy  chew- 
ing a  string,  a  clumsy  woman  in  a  side-saddle, 
a  hen  with  her  head  cut  off,  or  a  cow  stung  by  a 
hornet,  exactly  as  the  whims  of  the  sea  took  her. 

"  See  her  sayin'  her  piece.  She  's  Patrick 
Henry  naow,"  said  Dan. 

She  swung  sideways  on  a  roller,  and  ges- 
ticulated with  her  jib-boom  from  port  to  star- 
board. 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  135 

«<But — ez — fer — me,  give  me  liberty — er 
give  me — death  !  " 

Wop !  She  sat  down  in  the  moon-path  on 
the  water,  courtesying  with  a  flourish  of  pride 
impressive  enough  had  not  the  wheel-gear 
sniggered  mockingly  in  its  box. 

Harvey  laughed  aloud.  "Why,  it 's  just  as 
if  she  was  alive,"  he  said. 

"  She  's  as  stiddy  as  a  haouse  an'  as  dry  as 
a  herrin',"  said  Dan  enthusiastically,  as  he  was 
slung  across  the  deck  in  a  batter  of  spray. 
*•  Fends  'em  off  an'  fends  'em  off,  an'  *  Don't 
ye  come  anigh  me,'  she  sez.  Look  at  her  — 
jest  look  at  her !  Sakes !  You  should  see 
one  o'  them  toothpicks  histin'  up  her  anchor 
on  her  spike  outer  fifteen-fathom  water." 

"  What  's  a  toothpick,  Dan  ?  " 

"Them  new  haddockers  an'  herrin'-boats. 
Fine  's  a  yacht  forward,  with  yacht  sterns  to 
'em,  an'  spike  bowsprits,  an'  a  haouse  that  'u'd 
take  our  hold.  I  've  heard  that  Burgess  him- 
self he  made  the  models  fer  three  or  four  of 
'em.  Dad  's  sot  agin  'em  on  account  o'  their 
pitchin'  an'  joltin',  but  there 's  heaps  o'  money 
in  'em.  Dad  can  find  fish,  but  he  ain't  no 
ways  progressive  —  he  don't  go  with  the 
march  o'  the  times.      They  're  chock-full  o' 


136  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

labor-savin'  jigs  an'  sech  all.  'Ever  seed  the 
Elector  o'  Gloucester  ?  She  's  a  daisy,  ef  she 
is  a  toothpick." 

"What  do  they  cost,  Dan?" 

"  Hills  o'  dollars.  Fifteen  thousand,  p'haps ; 
more,  mebbe.  There  's  gold-leaf  an'  every- 
thing you  kin  think  of"  Then  to  himself, 
half  under  his  breath,  "  Guess  I  'd  call  her 
Hattie  S.,  too." 


CHAPTER  V 

THAT  was  the  first  of  many  talks  with 
Dan,  who  told  Haixey  why  he  would 
transfer  his  dory's  name  to  the  imaginary 
Burgess-modeled  haddocker.  Harvey  heard  a 
good  deal  about  the  real  Hattie  at  Glouces- 
ter; saw  a  lock  of  her  hair  —  which  Dan, 
finding  fair  words  of  no  avail,  had  "  hooked  " 
as  she  sat  in  front  of  him  at  school  that  win- 
ter— and  a  photograph.  Hattie  was  about 
fourteen  years  old,  with  an  awful  contempt 
for  boys,  and  had  been  trampling  on  Dan's 
heart  through  the  winter.  All  this  was  re- 
vealed under  oath  of  solemn  secrecy  on  moon- 
lit decks,  in  the  dead  dark,  or  in  choking  fog; 
the  whining  wheel  behind  them,  the  climb- 
ing deck  before,  and  without,  the  unresting, 
clamorous  sea.  Once,  of  course,  as  the  boys 
came  to  know  each  other,  there  was  a  fio^ht 
which  raged  from  bow  to  stern  till  Penn 
came  up  and  separated   them,  but  promised 


138  "CAPTAINS  COURAGEOUS" 

not  to  tell  Disko,  who  thought  fighting  on 
watch  rather  worse  than  sleeping.  Harvey 
was  no  match  for  Dan  physically,  but  it  says 
a  great  deal  for  his  new  training  that  he  took 
his  defeat  and  did  not  try  to  get  even  with  his 
conqueror  by  underhand  methods. 

That  was  after  he  had  been  cured  of  a 
string  of  boils  between  his  elbows  and  wrists, 
where  the  wet  jersey  and  oilskins  cut  into  the 
flesh.  The  salt  water  stung  them  unpleas- 
antly, but  when  they  were  ripe  Dan  treated 
them  with  Disko's  razor,  and  assured  Harvey 
that  now  he  was  a  "blooded  Banker";  the 
affliction  of  gurry-sores  being  the  mark  of  the 
caste  that  claimed  him. 

Since  he  was  a  boy  and  very  busy,  he  did 
not  bother  his  head  with  too  much  thinking. 
He  was  exceedingly  sorry  for  his  mother,  and 
often  longed  to  see  her  and  above  all  to  tell 
her  of  this  wonderful  new  life,  and  how  bril- 
liantly he  was  acquitting  himself  in  it.  Other- 
wise he  preferred  not  to  wonder  too  much 
how  she  was  bearing  the  shock  of  his  sup- 
posed death.  But  one  day,  as  he  stood  on 
the  foc'sle  ladder,  guying  the  cook,  who  had 
accused  him  and  Dan  of  hooking  fried  pies,  it 
occurred  to  him  that  this  was  a  vast  improve- 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  139 

ment  on  being  snubbed  by  strangers  in  the 
smoking-room  of  a  hired  Hner. 

He  was  a  recognized  part  of  the  scheme 
of  things  on  the  We  're  Here ;  had  his  place 
at  the  table  and  among  the  bunks ;  and  could 
hold  his  own  in  the  long  talks  on  stormy  days, 
when  the  others  were  always  ready  to  listen 
to  what  they  called  his  "  fairy-tales "  of  his 
life  ashore.  It  did  not  take  him  more  than 
twa  days  and  a  quarter  to  feel  that  if  he 
spoke  of  his  own  life  —  it  seemed  very  far 
away  —  no  one  except  Dan  (and  even  Dan's 
belief  was  sorely  tried)  credited  him.  So  he 
invented  a  friend,  a  boy  he  had  heard  of,  who 
drove  a  miniature  four-pony  drag  in  Toledo, 
Ohio,  and  ordered  five  suits  of  clothes  at  a 
time,  and  led  things  called  "germans"  at 
parties  where  the  oldest  girl  was  not  quite 
fifteen,  but  all  the  presents  were  solid  silver. 
Salters  protested  that  this  kind  of  yarn  was 
desperately  wicked,  if  not  indeed  positively 
blasphemous,  but  he  listened  as  greedily  as 
the  others ;  and  their  criticisms  at  the  end 
gave  Harvey  entirely  new  notions  on  "  ger- 
mans,"  clothes,  cigarettes  with  gold-leaf  tips, 
rings,  watches,  scent,  small  dinner-parties, 
champagne,  card-playing,  and  hotel  accommo- 


I40  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

dation.  Little  by  little  he  changed  his  tone 
when  speaking  of  his  "friend,"  whom  Long 
Jack  had  christened  "the  Crazy  Kid,"  "the 
Gilt-edged  Baby,"  "the  Suckin'  Vanderpoop," 
and  other  pet  names ;  and  with  his  sea-booted 
feet  cocked  up  on  the  table  would  even  invent 
histories  about  silk  pajamas  and  specially  im- 
ported neckwear,  to  the  "friend's"  discredit. 
Harvey  was  a  very  adaptable  person,  with  a  keen 
eye  and  ear  for  every  face  and  tone  about  him. 
Before  long  he  knew  where  Disko  kept 
the  old  green-crusted  quadrant  that  they 
called  the  "hog-yoke" — under  the  bed-bag 
In  his  bunk.  When  he  took  the  sun,  and 
with  the  help  of  "The  Old  Farmer's"  alma- 
nac found  the  latitude,  Harvey  would  jump 
down  into  the  cabin  and  scratch  the  reckon- 
Ine  and  date  with  a  nail  on  the  rust  of  the 
stove-pipe.  Now,  the  chief  engineer  of  the 
liner  could  have  done  no  more,  and  no  engi- 
neer of  thirty  years'  service  could  have  as- 
sumed one  half  of  the  ancient-mariner  air 
with  which  Harvey,  first  careful  to  spit  over 
the  side,  made  public  the  schooner's  position 
for  that  day,  and  then  and  not  till  then  re- 
lieved Disko  of  the  quadrant.  There  is  an 
etiquette  in  all  these  things. 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  141 

The  said  "  hog-yoke,"  an  Eldridge  chart,  the 
farming  almanac,  Blunt's  "  Coast  Pilot,"  and 
Bowditch's  "Navigator"  were  all  the  weapons 
Disko  needed  to  guide  him,  except  the  deep- 
sea  lead  that  was  his  spare  eye.  Harvey  nearly 
slew  Penn  with  it  when  Tom  Piatt  taught 
him  first  how  to  "fly  the  blue  pigeon";  and, 
though  his  strength  was  not  equal  to  continu- 
ous sounding  in  any  sort  of  a  sea,  for  calm 
weather  with  a  seven-pound  lead  on  shoal 
water  Disko  used  him  freely.  As  Dan  said : 
"'T  ain't  soundin's  dad  wants.  It  's  samples. 
Grease  her  up  good,  Harve."  Harvey  would 
tallow  the  cup  at  the  end,  and  carefully  bring 
the  sand,  shell,  sludge,  or  whatever  it  might 
be,  to  Disko,  who  fingered  and  smelt  it  and 
gave  judgment.  As  has  been  said,  when 
Disko  thought  of  cod  he  thought  as  a  cod ; 
and  by  some  long-tested  mixture  of  instinct 
and  experience,  moved  the  We  're  Here  from 
berth  to  berth,  always  with  the  fish,  as  a 
blindfolded  chess-player  moves  on  the  unseen 
board. 

But  Disko's  board  was  the  Grand  Bank  — 
a  triangle  two  hundred  and  fifty  miles  on  each 
side  —  a  waste  of  wallowing  sea,  cloaked  with 
dank    fog,    vexed    with    gales,    harried    with 


142  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

drifting  ice,  scored  by  the  tracks  of  the  reck- 
less Hners,  and  dotted  with  the  sails  of  the 
fishing-fleet. 

For  days  they  worked  in  fog  —  Harvey  at 
the  bell  —  till,  grown  familiar  with  the  thick  airs, 
he  went  out  with  Tom  Piatt,  his  heart  rather 
in  his  mouth.  But  the  fog  would  not  lift, 
and  the  fish  were  biting,  and  no  one  can  stay 
helplessly  afraid  for  six  hours  at  a  time.  Har- 
vey devoted  himself  to  his  lines  and  the  gaff 
or  gob-stick  as  Tom  Piatt  called  for  them  ; 
and  they  rowed  back  to  the  schooner  guided 
by  the  bell  and  Tom's  instinct ;  Manuel's 
conch  sounding  thin  and  faint  beside  them. 
But  it  was  an  unearthly  experience,  and,  for 
the  first  time  in  a  month,  Harvey  dreamed 
of  the  shifting,  smoking  floors  of  water  round 
the  dory,  the  lines  that  strayed  away  into 
nothing,  and  the  air  above  that  melted  on  the 
sea  below  ten  feet  from  his  straining  eyes. 
A  few  days  later  he  was  out  with  Manuel  on 
what  should  have  been  forty-fathom  bottom, 
but  the  whole  length  of  the  roding  ran  out, 
and  still  the  anchor  found  nothing,  and  Har- 
vey grew  mortally  afraid,  for  that  his  last 
touch  with  earth  was  lost.  "Whale-hole," 
said  Manuel,  hauling  in.      "  That  is  good  joke 


"A  WHITENESS   MOVED   IN   THE  WHITEJ^ESS    OF  THE   FOG. 
IT  WAS   HIS   FIRST   INTRODUCTION   TO  THE   DREAD 
SUMMER  BERG   OF  THE  BANK." 


*' CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  145 

on  Disko.  Come ! "  and  he  rowed  to  the 
schooner  to  find  Tom  Piatt  and  the  others 
jeering  at  the  skipper  because,  for  once,  he 
had  led  them  to  the  edge  of  the  barren  Whale- 
deep,  the  blank  hole  of  the  Grand  Bank. 
They  made  another  berth  through  the  fog, 
and  that  time  the  hair  of  Harvey's  head  stood 
up  when  he  went  out  in  Manuel's  dory.  A 
whiteness  moved  in  the  whiteness  of  the 
fog;_  with  a  breath  like  the  breath  of  the 
grave,  and  there  was  a  roaring,  a  plunging, 
and  spouting.  It  was  his^rst  introduction 
to  the  dread  summer  berg  of  the  Banks,  and 
he  cowered^ia  the  bottom  of  the  boat  while 
IVIanuel  laughed.  There  were  days,  though, 
clear  and  soft  and  warm,  when  it  seemed  a  sin 
to  do  anything  but  loaf  over  the  hand-lines 
and  spank  the  drifting  "sun-scalds"  with  an 
oar ;  and  there  were  days  of  light  airs,  when 
Harvey  was  taught  how  to  steer  the  schooner 
from  one  berth  to  another. 

It  thrilled  through  him  when  he  first  felt 
the  keel  answer  to  his  hand  on  the  spokes 
and  slide  over  the  long  hollows  as  the  fore- 
sail scythed  back  and  forth  against  the  blue 
sky.  That  was  magnificent,  in  spite  of  Disko 
saying  that  it  would  break  a  snake's  back  to 


146  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

follow  his  wake.  But,  as  usual,  pride  ran 
before  a  fall.  They  were  sailing  on  the  wind 
with  the  staysail  —  an  old  one,  luckily  —  set, 
and  Harvey  jammed  her  right  into  it  to  show 
Dan  how  completely  he  had  mastered  the 
art.  The  foresail  went  over  with  a  bang,  and 
the  foregaff  stabbed  and  ripped  through  the 
staysail,  which  was,  of  course,  prevented  from 
going  over  by  the  mainstay.  They  lowered 
the  wreck  in  awful  silence,  and  Harvey  spent 
his  leisure  hours  for  the  next  few  days  under 
Tom  Piatt's  lee,  learning  to  use  a  needle  and 
palm.  Dan  hooted  with  joy,  for,  as  he  said, 
he  had  made  the  very  same  blunder  himself 
in  his  early  days. 

/^oylike,  Harvey  imitated  all  the  men  by 
turns,  till  he  had  combined  Disko's  peculiar 
stoop  at  the  wheel.  Long  Jack's  swinging 
overhand  when  the  lines  were  hauled,  Man- 
uel's round-shouldered  but  effective  stroke  in 
a  dory,  and  Tom  Piatt's  generous  Ohio  stride 
along  the  deck. 

"  'T  is  beautiful  to  see  how  he  takes  to  ut," 
said  Long  Jack,  when  Harvey  was  looking 
out  by  the  windlass  one  thick  noon.  **  I  '11 
lay  my  wage  an'  share  't  is  more  'n  half  play- 
actin'  to  him,  an'  he  consates  himself  he  's  a 


"CAPTALNS    COURAGEOUS"  147 

bowld  mariner.  Watch  his  Httle  bit  av  a 
back  now ! " 

"That  's  the  way  we  all  begin,"  said  Tom 
Piatt.  "The  boys  they  make  believe  all  the 
time  till  they  've  cheated  'emselves  into  bein' 
men,  an'  so  till  they  die  —  pretendin'  an'  pre- 
tendin'.  /  done  it  on  the  old  Ohio,  I  know. 
Stood  my  first  watch  —  harbor-watch — feelin' 
finer  'n  Farragut.  Dan  's  fiill  o'  the  same 
kind  o'  notions.  See  'em  now,  actin'  to  be 
genewine  moss-backs — every  hair  a  rope- 
yarn  an'  blood  Stockholm  tar."  He  spoke 
down  the  cabin  stairs.  "  Guess  you  're  mis- 
took in  your  judgments  fer  once,  Disko.  What 
in  Rome  made  ye  tell  us  all  here  the  kid  was 
crazy  ?  " 

"  He  wuz,"  Disko  replied.  "  Crazy  ez  a 
loon  when  he  come  aboard  ;  but  I  '11  say  he  's 
sobered  up  consid'ble  sence.      I  cured  him." 

"  He  yarns  good,"  said  Tom  Piatt.  " T'  other 
night  he  told  us  abaout  a  kid  of  his  own  size 
steerin'  a  cunnin'  little  rig  an'  four  ponies  up 
an'  down  Toledo,  Ohio,  I  think  't  was,  an' 
givin'  suppers  to  a  crowd  o'  sim'lar  kids. 
Cur'^us  kind  o' fairy-tale,  but  blame  interestin'. 
He  knows  scores  of  'em." 

"Guess  he  strikes  'em  outen  his  own  head," 


148  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

Disko  called  from  the  cabin,  where  he  was 
busy  with  the  log-book.  "  Stands  to  reason 
that  sort  is  all  made  up.  It  don't  take  in  no 
one  but  Dan,  an'  he  laughs  at  it.  I  've  heard 
him,  behind  my  back." 

"  Y'  ever  hear  what  Sim'on  Peter  Ca'houn 
said  when  they  whacked  up  a  match  'twix'  his 
sister  Hitty  an  Lorin'  Jerauld,  an'  the  boys 
put  up  that  joke  on  him  daown  to  Georges  ?  " 
drawled  Uncle  Salters,  who  was  dripping 
peaceably  under  the  lee  of  the  starboard 
dory-nest. 

Tom  Piatt  puffed  at  his  pipe  in  scornful 
silence :  he  was  a  Cape  Cod  man,  and  had 
not  known  that  tale  more  than  twenty  years. 
Uncle  Salters  went  on  with  a  rasping  chuckle: 

"  Sim'on  Peter  Ca'houn  he  said,  an'  he  was 
jest  right,  abaout  Lorin',  'Ha'af  on  the  taown,' 
he  said,  *  an' t'  other  ha'af  blame  fool;  an'  they 
told  me  she  's  married  a  'ich  man.'  Sim'on 
Peter  Ca'houn  he  hed  n't  no  roof  to  his  mouth, 
an'  talked  that  way." 

"  He  did  n't  talk  any  Pennsylvania  Dutch," 
Tom  Piatt  replied.  "  You  'd  better  leave  a 
Cape  man  to  tell  that  tale.  The  Ca'houns 
was  gypsies  frum  'way  back." 

"Wal,  I  don't  profess  to  be  any  elocution- 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  .149 

ist,"  Salters  said.  "I  'm  comin'  to  the  moral 
o'  things.  That  's  jest  abaout  what  aour 
Harve  be !  Ha'af  on  the  taown,  an'  t'  other 
ha'af  blame  fool ;  an'  there  's  some  '11  believe 
he  's  a  rich  man.     Yah  !  " 

"  Did  ye  ever  think  how  sweet  't  would  be 
to  sail  wid  a  full  crew  o'  Salterses  ? "  said 
Long  Jack.  "  Ha'af  in  the  furrer  an'  other 
ha'af  in  the  muck-heap,  as  Ca'houn  did  not 
say,  an'  makes  out  he  's  a  fisherman  !  " 

A  little  laugh  went  round  at  Salters's  ex- 
pense. 

Disko  held  his  tongue,  and  wrought  over 
the  log-book  that  he  kept  in  a  hatchet-faced, 
square  hand  ;  this  was  the  kind  of  thing  that 
ran  on,  page  after  soiled  page : 

''July  17.  This  day  thick  fog  and  few 
fish.  Made  berth  to  northward.  So  ends  this 
day. 

''July  18.  This  day  comes  in  with  thick 
fog.     Caught  a  few  fish. 

"July  19.  This  day  comes  in  with  light 
breeze  from  N.  E.  and  fine  weather.  Made 
a  berth  to  eastward.     Caught  plenty  fish. 

"July  20.  This,  the  Sabbath,  conies  in 
with  fog  and  light  winds.  So  ends  this  day. 
Total  fish  caught  this  week,  3,478." 


150  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

They  never  worked  on  Sundays,  but 
shaved,  and  washed  themselves  if  it  were 
fine,  and  Pennsylvania  sang  hymns.  Once 
or  twice  he  suggested  that,  if  it  was  not  an 
impertinence,  he  thought  he  could  preach  a 
little.  Uncle  Salters  nearly  jumped  down  his 
throat  at  the  mere  notion,  reminding  him  that 
he  was  not  a  preacher  and  must  n't  think  of 
such  things.  "We  'd  hev  him  rememberin' 
Johnstown  next,"  Salters  explained,  "  an' 
what  would  happen  then  ? "  So  they  com- 
promised on  his  reading  aloud  from  a  book 
called  "Josephus."  It  was  an  old  leather- 
bound  volume,  smelling  of  a  hundred  voyages, 
very  solid  and  very  like  the  Bible,  but  en- 
livened with  accounts  of  battles  and  sieges ; 
and  they  read  it  nearly  from  cover  to  cover. 
Otherwise  Penn  was  a  silent  little  body.  He 
would  not  utter  a  word  for  three  days  on  end 
sometimes,  though  he  played  checkers,  lis- 
tened to  the  songs,  and  laughed  at  the  stories. 
When  they  tried  to  stir  him  up,  he  would 
answer:  "  I  don't  wish  to  seem  unneighborly, 
but  it  is  because  I  have  nothing  to  say.  My 
head  feels  quite  empty.  I  've  almost  for- 
gotten my  name."  He  would  turn  to  Uncle 
Salters  with  an  expectant  smile. 


o  i 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  153 

"Why,  Pennsylvania  Pratty'  Salters  would 
shout.     "  You  '11  fergit  me  next ! " 

"No  —  never,"  Penn  would  say,  shutting 
his  lips  firmly.  "  Pennsylvania  Pratt,  of 
course,"  he  would  repeat  over  and  over. 
Sometimes  it  was  Uncle  Salters  who  forgot, 
and  told  him  he  was  Haskins  or  Rich  or 
McVitty;  but  Penn  was  equally  content  — 
till  next  time. 

He  was  always  very  tender  with  Harvey, 
whom  he  pitied  both  as  a  lost  child  and  as  a 
lunatic ;  and  when  Salters  saw  that  Penn  liked 
the  boy,  he  relaxed,  too.  Salters  was  not  an 
amiable  person  (he  esteemed  it  his  business 
to  keep  the  boys  in  order)  ;  and  the  first  time 
Harvey,  in  fear  and  trembling,  on  a  still  day, 
managed  to  shin  up  to  the  main-truck  (Dan 
was  behind  him  ready  to  help),  he  esteemed 
It  his  duty  to  hang  Salters's  big  sea-boots  up 
there — a  sight  of  shame  and  derision  to  the 
nearest  schooner.  With  Disko,  Harvey  took 
no  liberties ;  not  even  when  the  old  man 
dropped  direct  orders,  and  treated  him,  like 
the  rest  of  the  crew,  to  "Don't  you  want  to  do 
so  and  so?"  and  "Guess  you  'd  better,"  and 
so  forth.  There  was  something  about  the 
clean-shaven   lips   and   the   puckered  corners 


154  "CAPTAINS  COURAGEOUS" 

of  the  eyes  that  was  mightily  sobering  to 
young  blood. 

Disko  showed  him  the  meaning  of  the 
thumbed  and  pricked  chart,  which,  he  said, 
laid  over  any  government  publication  whatso- 
ever ;  led  him,  pencil  in  hand,  from  berth  to 
berth  over  the  whole  string  of  banks  —  Le 
Have,  Western,  Banquereau,  St.  Pierre,  Green, 
and  Grand — talking  "cod  "  meantime.  Taught 
him,  too,  the  principle  on  which  the  "  hog- 
yoke  "  was  worked. 

In  this  Harvey  excelled  Dan,  for  he  had 
inherited  a  head  for  figures,  and  the  notion  of 
stealing  information  from  one  glimpse  of  the 
sullen  Bank  sun  appealed  to  all  his  keen  wits. 
For  other  sea-matters  his  age  handicapped 
him.  As  Disko  said,  he  should  have  begun 
when  he  was  ten.  Dan  could  bait  up  trawl 
or  lay  his  hand  on  any  rope  in  the  dark ;  and 
at  a  pinch,  when  Uncle  Salters  had  a  gurry-sore 
on  his  palm,  could  dress  down  by  sense  of 
touch.  He  could  steer  in  anything  short  of 
half  a  gale  from  the  feel  of  the  wind  on  his 
face,  humoring  the  We  're  Here  just  when  she 
needed  it.  These  thino-s  he  did  as  automati- 
cally  as  he  skipped  about  the  rigging,  or 
made  his  dory  a  part  of  his  own  will  and  body. 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  155 

But  he  could  not  communicate  his  knowledge 
to  Harvey. 

Still  there  was  a  good  deal  of  general  in- 
formation flying  about  the  schooner  on  stormy 
days,  when  they  lay  up  in  the  foc'sle  or  sat 
on  the  cabin  lockers,  while  spare  eye-bolts, 
leads,  and  rings  rolled  and  rattled  in  the 
pauses  of  the  talk.  Disk o  spoke  of  whaling 
voyages  in  the  Fifties ;  of  great  she-whales 
slain  beside  their  young ;  of  death  agonies 
on  the  black,  tossing  seas,  and  blood  that 
spurted  forty  feet  in  the  air ;  of  boats  smashed 
to  splinters  ;  of  patent  rockets  that  went  off 
wrong-end -first  and  bombarded  the  trembling 
crews;  of  cutting-in  and  boiling-down,  and  that 
terrible  "  nip"  of '71,  when  twelve  hundred  men 
were  made  homeless  on  the  ice  in  three  days 
— wonderful  tales,  all  true.  But  more  won- 
derful still  were  his  stories  of  the  cod,  and 
how  they  argued  and  reasoned  on  their  pri- 
vate businesses  deep  down   below  the  keel. 

Long  Jack's  tastes  ran  more  to  the  super- 
natural. He  held  them  silent  with  ghastly 
stories  of  the  "Yo-hqes"  on  Monomoy  Beach, 
that  mockand  terrify  lonely  clam-diggers;  of 
sand-walkers  and  dune-haunters  who  were 
never  properly  buried ;  of  hidden  treasure  on 


156  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

Fire  Island  guarded  by  the  spirits  of  Kidd's 
men;  of  ships  that  sailed  in  the  fog  straight 
over  Truro  township;  of  that  harbor  in  Maine 
where  no  one  but  a  stranger  will  He  at  an- 
chor twice  in  a  certain  place  because  of  a 
dead  crew  who  row  alongside  at  midnight 
with  the  anchor  in  the  bow  of  their  old-fash- 
ioned boat,  whistling — not  calling,  but  whist- 
ling— for  the  soul  of  the  man  who  broke  their 
rest. 

Harvey  had  a  notion  that  the  east  coast  of 
his  native  land,  from  Mount  Desert  south, 
was  populated  chiefly  by  people  who  took 
their  horses  there  in  the  summer  and  enter- 
tained in  country-houses  with  hardwood  floors 
and  Vantine  portieres.  He  laughed  at  the 
ghost-tales, — not  as  much  as  he  would  have 
done  a  month  before, — but  ended  by  .sitting 
still  and  shuddering. 

Tom  Piatt  dealt  with  his  interminable  trip 
round  the  Horn  on  the  old  Ohio  in  the  flogging 
days,  with  a  navy  more  extinct  than  the  dodo 
—  the  navy  that  passed  away  in  the  great  war. 
He  told  them  how  red-hot  shot  are  dropped 
into  a  cannon,  a  wad  of  wet  clay  between 
them  and  the  cartridge;  how  they  sizzle  and 
reek  when  they  strike  wood,  and  how  the  little 


** CAPTAINS    COURAGEOUS"  157 

ship -boys  of  the  Miss  Jim  Buck  hove  water 
over  them  and  shouted  to  the  fort  to  try- 
again.  And  he  told  tales  of  blockade — long 
weeks  of  swaying  at  anchor,  varied  only  by 
the  departure  and  return  of  steamers  that 
had  used  up  their  coal  (there  was  no  change 
for  the  sailing-ships);  of  gales  and  cold  — 
cold  that  kept  two  hundred  men,  night  and 
day,  pounding  and  chopping  at  the  ice  on 
cable,  blocks,  and  rigging,  when  the  galley 
was  as  red-hot  as  the  fort's  shot,  and  men 
drank  cocoa  by  the  bucket.  Tom  Piatt  had 
no  use  for  steam.  His  service  closed  when 
that  thing  was  comparatively  new.  He  ad- 
mitted that  it  was  a  specious  invention  in 
time  of  peace,  but  looked  hopefully  for  the 
day  when  sails  should  come  back  again  on 
ten-thousand-ton  frigates  with  hundred-and- 
ninety-foot  booms. 

Manuel's  talk  was  slow  and  gentle  —  all 
about  pretty  girls  in  Madeira  washing  clothes 
in  the  dry  beds  of  streams,  by  moonlight, 
under  waving  bananas ;  legends  of  saints, 
and  tales  of  queer  dances  or  fights  away  in 
the  cold  Newfoundland  baiting-ports.  Sal- 
ters  was  mainly  agricultural ;  for,  though  he 
read  **  Josephus  "  and  expounded  it,  his  mis- 


158  "CAPTAINS    COURAGEOUS" 

sion  in  life  was  to  prove  the  value  of  green 
manures,  and  specially  of  clover,  against 
every  form  of  phosphate  whatsoever.  He 
grew  libellous  about  phosphates ;  he  dragged 
greasy  *'  Orange  Judd  "  books  from  his  bunk 
and  intoned  them,  wagging  his  finger  at  Har- 
vey, to  whom  it  was  all  Greek.  Little  Penn 
was  so  genuinely  pained  when  Harvey  made 
fun  of  Salters's  lectures  that  the  boy  gave  it 
up,  and  suffered  in  polite  silence.  That  was 
very  good  for  Harvey. 

The^ook  naturally  did  not  join  in  these 
conversations.  As  a  rule,  he  spoke  only 
when  it  was  absolutely  necessary ;  but  at 
times  a  queer  gift  of  speech  descended  on 
him,  and  he  held  forth,  half  in  Gaelic,  half 
in  broken  English,  an  hour  at  a  time.  He 
was  specially  communicative  with  the  boys, 
and  he  never  withdrew  his  prophecy  that  one 
day  Harvey  would  he  Dan's  master,  and  that 
he  would  see  it.  He  told  them  of  mail- 
carrying  in  the  winter  up  Cape  Breton  way, 
of  the  dog-train  that  goes  to  Coudray,  and 
of  the  ram-steamer  Arctic,  that  breaks  the 
ice  between  the  mainland  and  Prince  Edward 
Island.  Then  he  told  them  stories  that  his 
mother  had  told  him,  of  life  far  to  the  south- 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  159 

ward,  where  water  never  froze ;  and  he  said 
that  when  he  died  his  soul  would  go  to  lie 
down  on  a  warm  white  beach  of  sand  with 
palm-trees  waving  above.  That  seemed  to 
the  boys  a  very  odd  idea  for  a  man  who  had 
never  seen  a  palm  in  his  life.  Then,  too, 
regularly  at  each  meal,  he  would  ask  Harvey, 
and  Harvey  alone,  whether  the  cooking  was 
to  his  taste ;  and  this  always  made  the  "  sec- 
ond half"  laugh.  Yet  they  had  a  great  respect 
for  the  cook's  judgment,  and  in  their  hearts 
considered  Harvey  something  of  a  mascot  by 
consequence. 

And  while  Harvey  was  taking  in  know- 
ledge of  new  things  at  each  pore  and  hard 
health  with  every  gulp  of  the  good  air,  the 
We  're  Here  went  her  ways  and  did  her 
business  on  the  Bank,  and  the  silvery-gray 
kenches  of  well-pressed  fish  mounted  higher 
and  higher  in  the  hold.  No  one  day's  work 
was  out  of  the  common,  but  the  average  days 
were  many  and  close  together. 

Naturally,  a  man  of  Disko's  reputation  was 
closely  watched  —  '*  scrowged  upon,"  Dan 
called  it  —  by  his  neighbors,  but  he  had  a 
very  pretty  knack  of  giving  them  the  slip 
through  the  curdling,  glidy  fog-banks.    Disko 


l6o  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

avoided  company  for  two  reasons.  He  wished 
to  make  his  own  experiments,  in  the  first 
place ;  and  in  the  second,  he  objected  to  the 
mixed  gatherings  of  a  fleet  of  all  nations. 
The  bulk  of  them  were  mainly  Gloucester 
boats,  with  a  scattering  from  Provincetown, 
Harwich,  Chatham,  and  some  of  the  Maine 
ports,  but  the  crews  drew  from  goodness 
knows  where.  Risk  breeds  recklessness,  and 
when  greed  is  added  there  are  fine  chances 
for  every  kind  of  accident  in  the  crowded 
fleet,  which,  like  a  mob  of  sheep,  is  huddled 
round  some  unrecognized  leader.  "  Let  the 
two  Jeraulds  lead  'em,"  said  Disko.  "We're 
baound  to  lay  among  'em  fer  a  spell  on  the 
Eastern  Shoals  ;  though  ef  luck  holds,  we  won't 
hev  to  lay  long.  Where  we  are  naow,  Harve, 
ain't  considered  noways  good  graound." 

"  Ain't  it  ?  "  said  Harvey,  who  was  drawing 
water  (he  had  learned  just  how  to  wiggle  the 
bucket),  after  an  unusually  long  dressing- 
down.  "  Should  n't  mind  striking  some  poor 
ground  for  a  change,  then." 

"All  the  graound  I  want  to  see  —  don't 
want  to  strike  her  —  is  Eastern  Point,"  said 
Dan.  "  Say,  dad,  it  looks  's  if  we  would  n't 
hev  to  lay  more  *n  two  weeks  on  the  Shoals. 


"CAPTAINS  COURAGEOUS"  i6i 

You  *11  meet  all  the  comp'ny  you  want  then, 
Harve.  That  's  the  time  we  begin  to  work. 
No  reg'lar  meals  fer  no  one  then.  'Mug-up 
when  ye  're  hungry,  an'  sleep  when  ye  can't 
keep  awake.  Good  job  you  was  n't  picked  up 
a  month  later  than  you  was,  or  we  'd  never  ha' 
had  you  dressed  in  shape  fer  the  Old  Virgin." 

Harvey  understood  from  the  Eldridge  chart 
that  the  Old  Virgin  and  a  nest  of  curiously 
named  shoals  were  the  turning-point  of  the 
cruise,  and  that  with  good  luck  they  would 
wet  the  balance  of  their  salt  there.  But  see- 
ing the  size  of  the  Virgin  (it  was  one  tiny 
dot),  he  wondered  how  even  Disko  with  the 
hog-yoke  and  the  lead  could  find  her.  He 
learned  later  that  Disko  was  entirely  equal  to 
that  and  any  other  business,  and  could  even 
help  others.  A  big  four-by-five  blackboard 
hung  in  the  cabin,  and  Harvey  never  under- 
stood the  need  of  it  till,  after  some  blindine 
thick  days,  they  heard  the  unmelodious  toot- 
ing of  a  foot-power  fog-horn  —  a  machine 
whose  note  is  as  that  of  a  consumptive  ele- 
phant. 

They  were  making  a  short  berth,  towing 
the  anchor  under  their  foot  to  save  trouble. 
"Square-rigger  bellowin'  fer  his  latitude,"  said 


162  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

Long  Jack.  The  dripping  red  headsails  of  a 
bark  glided  out  of  the  fog,  and  the  We  're 
Here  rang  her  bell  thrice,  using  sea  short- 
hand. 

The  larger  boat  backed  her  topsail  with 
shrieks  and  shoutings. 

"  Frenchman,"  said  Uncle  Salters,  scorn- 
fully. "  Miquelon  boat  from  St.  Malo."  The 
farmer  had  a  weatherly  sea-eye.  "I  'm  most 
outer  'baccy,  too,  Disko." 

"Same  here,"  said  Tom  Piatt.  "Hi!  Backez 
votis  —  backez  vons!  Standez  awayez,  you 
butt-ended  mucho-bono!  Where  you  from  — 
St.  Malo,  eh  ?  " 

"Ah,  ha!  Mucho  bono/  Out!  ouif  Clos 
Poulet —  St.  Malof  St.  Pierre  et  Miquelon" 
cried  the  other  crowd,  waving  woolen  caps 
and  laughing.  Then  ail  together,  ''Bord! 
Bord!  " 

"  Bring  up  the  board,  Danny.  Beats  me 
how  them  Frenchmen  fetch  anywheres,  ex- 
ceptin'  America's  fairish  broadly.  Forty-six 
forty-nine  's  good  enough  fer  them ;  an'  I 
guess  it  's  abaout  right,  too." 

Dan  chalked  the  figures  on  the  board,  and 
they  hung  it  in  the  main-rigging  to  a  chorus 
of  mercis  from  the  bark. 


> 

K    > 

H 

>    M 


n    o 
—  a 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  165 

"  Seems  kinder  unneighborly  to  let  'em 
swedge  off  like  this,"  Salters  suggested,  feel- 
ing in  his  pockets. 

"  Hev  ye  learned  French  then  sence  last 
trip?"  said  Disko.  "/  don't  want  no  more 
stone-ballast  hove  at  us  'long  o'  your  callin' 
Miquelon  boats  '  footy  cochins,'  same  's  you 
did  off  Le  Have." 

"  Harmon  Rush  he  said  that  was  the  way 
to  rise  'em.  Plain  United  States  is  good 
enough  fer  me.  We  're  all  dretful  short  on 
terbakker.  Young  feller,  don't  you  speak 
French  ? " 

*'  Oh,  yes,"  said  Harvey  valiantly ;  and  he 
bawled:  "Hi!  Say!  Arretez  voiis !  Atten- 
dez  !    Nous  sommes  venant  pour  tabac'' 

"Ah,  tabac,  tabac!''  they  cried,  and  laughed 
again. 

"  That  hit  'em.  Let  's  heave  a  dory  over, 
anyway,"  said  Tom  Piatt.  "  I  don't  exactly 
hold  no  certificates  on  French,  but  I  know 
another  lingo  that  goes,  I  guess.  Come  on, 
Harve,  an'  interpret." 

The  raffle  and  confusion  when  he  and  Har- 
vey were  hauled  up  the  bark's  black  side  was 
indescribable.  Her  cabin  was  all  stuck  round 
with  glaring  colored  prints  of  the  Virgin  — 


i66  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

the  Virgin  of  Newfoundland,  they  called  her. 
Harvey  found  his  French  of  no  recognized 
Bank  brand,  and  his  conversation  was  limited 
to  nods  and  grins.  But  Tom  Piatt  waved  his 
arms  and  got  along  swimmingly.  The  cap- 
tain gave  him  a  drink  of  unspeakable  gin, 
and  the  opera-comique  crew,  with  their  hairy 
throats,  red  caps,  and  long  knives,  greeted 
him  as  a  brother.  Then  the  trade  began. 
They  had  tobacco,  plenty  of  it  —  American, 
that  had  never  paid  duty  to  France.  They 
wanted  chocolate  and  crackers^  Harvey 
rowed  back  to  arrange  with  the  cook  and 
Disko,  who  owned  the  stores,  and  on  his 
return  the  cocoa-tins  and  cracker-bags  were 
counted  out  by  the  Frenchman's  wheel.  It 
looked  like  a  piratical  division  of  loot ;  but 
Tom  Piatt  came  out  of  it  roped  with  black 
pigtail  and  stuffed  with  cakes  of  chewing  and 
smoking  tobacco.  Then  those  jovial  mariners 
swung  off  into  the  mist,  and  the  last  Harvey 
heard  was  a  gay  chorus : 

"  Par  derriere  chez  ma  tante, 
II  y  a  un  bois  joli, 
Et  le  rossignol  y  chante 
Et  le  jour  et  la  nuit     .     .     . 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  167 

Que  donneriez  vous,  belle, 
Qui  I'amenerait  ici  ? 
Je  donnerai  Quebec, 
Sorel  et  Saint  Denis." 

**  How  was  it  my  French  did  n't  go,  and 
your  sign-talk  did  ?  "  Harvey  demanded  when 
the  barter  had  been  distributed  among  the 
We  're  Heres. 

"  Sign-talk  !  "  Piatt  guffawed.  "  Well,  yes, 
't  was  sign-talk,  but  a  heap  older  'n  your 
French,  Harve.  Them  French  boats  are 
chock-full   o'    Freemasons,   an'   that  's   why." 

"Are  you  a  Freemason,  then?" 

"  Looks  that  way,  don't  it?  "  said  the  man- 
o'-war's  man,  stuffing  his  pipe ;  and  Harvey 
had  another  mystery  of  the  deep  sea  to  brood 
upon. 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE  thing  that  struck  him  most  was  the 
exceedingly  casual  way  in  which  some 
craft  loafed  about  the  broad  Atlantic.  Fish- 
ing-boats, as  Dan  said,  were  naturally  depen- 
dent on  the  courtesy  and  wisdom  of  their 
neighbors ;  but  one  expected  better  things  of 
steamers.  That  was  after  another  interesting 
interview,  when  they  had  been  chased  for 
three  miles  by  a  big  lumbering  old  cattle- 
boat,  all  boarded  over  on  the  upper  deck,  that 
smelt  like  a  thousand  cattle-pens.  A  very 
excited  officer  yelled  at  them  through  a 
speaking-trumpet,  and  she  lay  and  lollopped 
helplessly  on  the  water  while  Disko  ran,  the 
We  're  Here  under  her  lee  and  gave  the  skip- 
per a  piece  of  his  mind.  "Where  might  ye 
be — eh?  Ye  don't  deserve  to  be  anywheres. 
You  barn-yard  tramps  go  hoggin'  the  road 
on  the  high  seas  with  no  blame  consideration 
fer  your  neighbors,  an'  your  eyes  in  your  cof- 
fee-cups instid  o'  in  your  silly  heads." 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  169 

At  this  the  skipper  danced  on  the  bridge 
and  said  something  about  Disko's  own  eyes. 
"We  have  n't  had  an  observation  for  three 
days.  D'  you  suppose  we  can  run  her  bhnd  ?  " 
he  shouted. 

"  Wa-al,  /  can,"  Disko  retorted.  "  What  's 
come  to  your  lead?  Et  it?  Can't  ye  smell 
bottom,  or  are  them  cattle  too  rank  ? " 

"What  d'  ye  feed  'em?"  said  Uncle  Sal- 
ters  with  intense  seriousness,  for  the  smell  of 
the  pens  woke  all  the  farmer  in  him.  "  They 
say  they  fall  off  dretful  on  a  v'yage.  Dunno  as 
it 's  any  o'  my  business,  but  I  've  a  kind  o'  no- 
tion that  oil-cake  broke  small  an'  sprinkled — " 

"Thunder !  "  said  a  cattle-man  in  a  red  jer- 
sey as  he  looked  over  the  side.  "  What  asy- 
lum did  they  let  His  Whiskers  out  of?  " 

"Young  feller,"  Salters  began,  standing  up 
in  the  fore-rigging,  "  let  me  tell  yeou  'fore  we 
go  any  further  that  I  've — " 

The  officer  on  the  bridge  took  off  his  cap 
with  immense  politeness.  "  Excuse  me,"  he 
said,  "but  J  've  asked  for  my  reckoning.  If 
the  agricultural  person  with  the  hair  will 
kindly  shut  his  head,  the  sea-green  barnacle 
with  the  wall-eye  may  per-haps  condescend 
to  enlighten  us." 


I70  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

"  Naow  you  've  made  a  show  o'  me,  Salt- 
ers,"  said  Disko,  angrily.  He  could  not  stand 
up  to  that  particular  sort  of  talk,  and  snapped 
out  the  latitude  and  longitude  without  more 
lectures. 

"  Well,  that 's  a  boat-load  of  lunatics,  sure," 
said  the  skipper,  as  he  rang  up  the  engine- 
room  and  tossed  a  bundle  of  newspapers  into 
the  schooner. 

"Of  «//  the  blamed  fools,  next  to  you,  Salt- 
ers,  him  an'  his  crowd  are  abaout  the  likeliest 
I  've  ever  seen,"  said  Disko  as  the  We  're 
Here  slid  away.  "  I  was  jest  givin'  him  my 
jedgment  on  lullsikin'  round  these  waters  like 
a  lost  child,  an'  you  must  cut  in  with  your  fool 
farmin'.    Can't  ye  never  keep  things  sep'rate?" 

Harvey,  Dan,  and  the  others  stood  back, 
winking  one  to  the  other  and  full  of  joy ;  but 
Disko  and  Salters  wrangled  seriously  till 
evening,  Salters  arguing  that  a  cattle-boat 
was  practically  a  barn  on  blue  water,  and 
Disko  insisting  that,  even  if  this  were  the 
case,  decency  and  fisher-pride  demanded  that 
he  should  have  kept  "  things  sep'rate."  Long 
Jack  stood  it  in  silence  for  a  time, —  an  angry 
skipper  makes  an  unhappy  crew, —  and  then 
he  spoke  across  the  table  after  supper: 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  171 

"  Fwhat  's  the  good  o*  bodderin'  fwhat 
they  '11  say  ? "  said  he. 

"  They  '11  tell  that  tale  agin  us  fer  years  — 
that  's  all,"  said  Disko.  "  Oil-cake  sprin- 
kled ! " 

"  With  salt,  o'  course,"  said  Salters,  impeni- 
tent, reading  the  farming  reports  from  a 
week-old  New  York  paper. 

"  It  's  plumb  mortifyin'  to  all  my  feelin's," 
the  skipper  went  on. 

"  Can't  see  ut  that  way,"  said  Long  Jack, 
the  peacemaker.  "  Look  at  here,  Disko  !  Is 
there  another  packet  afloat  this  day  in  this 
weather  cud  ha'  met  a  tramp  an',  over  an' 
above  givin'  her  her  reckonin',  —  over  an' 
above  that,  I  say,  —  cud  ha'  discoorsed  wid 
her  quite  intelligent  on  the  management  av 
steers  an'  such  at  sea  ?  Forgit  ut !  Av  coorse 
they  will  not.  'T  was  the  most  compenjus 
conversation  that  iver  accrued.  Double  game 
an'  twice  runnin' — all  to  us."  Dan  kicked 
Harvey  under  the  table,  and  Harvey  choked 
in  his  cup. 

**  Well,"  said  Salters,  who  felt  that  his  honor 
had  been  somewhat  plastered,  "  I  said  I  did  n't 
know  as  *t  wuz  any  business  o'  mine,  'fore  I 
spoke." 


172  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

"An'  right  there,"  said  Tom  Piatt,  experi- 
enced in  discipline  and  etiquette — "right 
there,  I  take  it,  Disko,  you  should  ha'  asked 
him  to  stop  ef  the  conversation  wuz  likely, 
in  your  jedgment,  to  be  anyways  —  what  it 
should  n't." 

"  'Dunno  but  that  's  so,"  said  Disko,  who 
saw  his  way  to  an  honorable  retreat  from  a 
fit  of  the  dignities. 

"Why,  o'  course  it  was  so,"  said  Salters, 
"  you  bein'  skipper  here ;  an'  I  'd  cheerful 
hev  stopped  on  a  hint — not  from  any  lead- 
in'  or  conviction,  but  fer  the  sake  o'  bearin' 
an  example  to  these  two  blame  boys  of 
aours." 

"Did  n't  I  tell  you,  Harve,  't  would  come 
araound  to  us  'fore  we  'd  done?  Always 
those  blame  boys.  But  I  would  n't  have 
missed  the  show  fer  a  half-share  in  a  halibut- 
ter,"   Dan  whispered." 

"  Still,  things  should  ha'  been  kep'  sep'- 
rate,"  said  Disko,  and  the  light  of  new  argu- 
ment lit  in  Salters's  eye  as  he  crumbled  cut 
plug  into  his  pipe. 

"  There  's  a  power  av  vartue  in  keepin' 
things  sep'rate,"  said  Long  Jack,  intent  on 
stilling  the  storm.      "That  's  fwhat  Steyning 


"CAPTAINS  COURAGEOUS"  173 

of  Steyning  and  Hare's  fund  when  he  sent 
Counahan  fer  skipper  on  the  Marilla  D. 
Kuhn,  instid  o'  Cap.  Newton  that  was  took 
with  inflam'try  rheumatism  an'  could  n't  go. 
Counahan  the  Navigator  we  called  him." 

"Nick  Counahan  he  never  went  aboard  fer 
a  night  'thout  a  pond  o'  rum  somewheres  in 
the  manifest,"  said  Tom  Piatt,  playing  up  to 
the  lead.  "  He  used  to  bum  araound  the 
c'mission  houses  to  Boston  lookin'  fer  the 
Lord  to  make  him  captain  of  a  tow-boat  on 
his  merits.  Sam  Coy,  up  to  Atlantic  Avenoo, 
give  him  his  board  free  fer  a  year  or  more  on 
account  of  his  stories.  Counahan  the  Navi- 
gator !  Tck !  Tck !  Dead  these  fifteen  year, 
ain't  he  ?  " 

"  Seventeen,  I  guess.  He  died  the  year 
the  Caspar  Mc  Veagh  was  built ;  but  he  could 
niver  keep  things  sep'rate.  Steyning  tuk  him 
fer  the  reason  the  thief  tuk  the  hot  stove  — 
bekaze  there  was  nothin'  else  that  season. 
The  men  was  all  to  the  Banks,  and  Counahan 
he  whacked  up  an  iverlastin'  hard  crowd  fer 
crew.  Rum  !  Ye  cud  ha'  floated  the  Marilla, 
insurance  an'  all,  in  fwhat  they  stowed  aboard 
her.  They  lef  Boston  Harbor  for  the  great 
Grand  Bank  wid  a  roarin'  nor' wester  behind 


174  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

'em  an'  all  hands  full  to  the  bung.  An'  the 
hivens  looked  after  thim,  for  divil  a  watch  did 
they  set,  an'  divil  a  rope  did  they  lay  hand  to, 
till  they  'd  seen  the  bottom  av  a  fifteen-gallon 
cask  o'  bug-juice.  That  was  about  wan  week, 
so  far  as  Counahan  remembered.  (If  I  cud 
only  tell  the  tale  as  he  told  ut !)  All  that 
whoile  the  wind  blew  like  ould  glory,  an'  the 
Marilla — 't  was  summer,  and  they  'd  give  her 
a  foretopmast  —  struck  her  gait  and  kept 
ut.  Then  Counahan  tuk  the  hog-yoke  an' 
thrembled  over  it  for  a  whoile,  an'  made  out, 
betwix'  that  an'  the  chart  an'  the  singin'  in 
his  head,  that  they  was  to  the  south'ard 
o'  Sable  Island,  gettin'  along  glorious,  but 
speakin'  nothin'.  Then  they  broached  an- 
other keg,  an'  quit  speculatin'  about  anythin' 
fer  another  spell.  The  Marilla  she  lay  down 
whin  she  dropped  Boston  Light,  and  she 
never  lufted  her  lee-rail  up  to  that  time  — 
hustlin'  on  one  an'  the  same  slant.  But  they 
saw  no  weed,  nor  gulls,  nor  schooners ;  an' 
prisintly  they  obsarved  they  'd  bin  out  a  mat- 
ter o*  fourteen  days,  and  they  mistrusted  the 
Bank  had  suspinded  payment.  So  they 
sounded,  an'  got  sixty  fathom.  'That  's  me,' 
sez  Counahan.     '  That 's  me  iv'ry  time  !    I  've 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  175 

run  her  slat  on  the  Bank  fer  you,  an'  when  we 
get  thirty  fathom  we  '11  turn  in  like  little  men. 
Counahan  is  the  b'y,'  sez  he.  *  Counahan  the 
navi orator ! ' 

"  Nex'  cast  they  got  ninety.  Sez  Couna- 
han :  '  Either  the  lead-line  's  tuk  to  stretchin' 
or  else  the  Bank  's  sunk.' 

''They  hauled  ut  up,  bein'  just  about  in 
that  state  when  ut  seemed  right  an'  reason- 
able, and  sat  down  on  the  deck  countin'  the 
knots,  an'  gettin'  her  snarled  up  hijjus.  The 
Marilla  she  'd  struck  her  gait,  an'  she  hild 
ut,  an'  prisintly  along  come  a  tramp,  an'  Cou- 
nahan spoke  her. 

"  '  Hev  ye  seen  any  fishin'-boats  now? '  sez 
he,  quite  casual. 

"  *  There  's  lashin's  av  them  off  the  Irish 
coast,'  sez  the  tramp. 

"'Aah!  go  shake  yerself,'  sez  Counahan. 
*  Fwhat  have  I  to  do  wid  the  Irish  coast?' 

"  'Then  fwhat  are  ye  doin'  here?'  sez  the 
tramp. 

"  *  Sufferin'  Christianity!'  sez  Counahan  (he 
always  said  that  whin  his  pumps  sucked  an'  he 
was  not  feelin'  good)  —  'Sufferin'  Christian- 
ity ! '  he  sez,  '  where  am  I  at  ? ' 

"'Thirty-five   mile   west-sou' west  o'  Cape 


176  "CAPTAINS    COURAGEOUS" 

Clear,'  sez  the  tramp,  '  if  that  's  any  consola- 
tion to  you.' 

"  Counahan  fetched  wan  jump,  four  feet 
sivin  inches,  measured  by  the  cook. 

"  *  Consolation  !  *  sez  he,  bould  as  brass. 
*  D'  ye  take  me  fer  a  dialect  ?  Thirty-five 
mile  from  Cape  Clear,  an'  fourteen  days  from 
Boston  Light.  Sufferin'  Christianity,  't  is  a 
record,  an'  by  the  same  token  I  've  a  mother 
to  Skibbereen  1 '  Think  av  ut !  The  gall  av 
um !  But  ye  see  he  could  niver  keep  things 
sep'rate. 

"The  crew  was  mostly  Cork  an'  Kerry 
men,  barrin'  one  Marylander  that  wanted  to 
go  back,  but  they  called  him  a  mutineer,  an' 
they  ran  the  ould  Marilla  into  Skibbereen, 
an'  they  had  an  illigant  time  visitin'  around 
with  frinds  on  the  ould  sod  fer  a  week. 
Thin  they  wint  back,  an'  it  cost  'em  two  an' 
thirty  days  to  beat  to  the  Banks  again.  'T  was 
gettin'  on  towards  fall,  and  grub  was  low,  so 
Counahan  ran  her  back  to  Boston,  wid  no 
more  bones  to  ut." 

"And  what  did  the  firm  say?"  Harvey 
demanded. 

"  Fwhat  could  they  ?  The  fish  was  on  the 
Banks,  an'  Counahan  was  at  T-wharf  talkin' 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  177 

av  his  record  trip  east !  They  tuk  their  sat- 
isfaction out  av  that,  an'  ut  all  came  av  not 
keepin'  the  crew  and  the  rum  sep'rate  in 
the  first  place ;  an'  confusin'  Skibbereen  wid 
'Queereau,  in  the  second.  Counahan  the  Navi- 
gator, rest  his  sowl !  He  was  an  imprompju 
citizen ! " 

"  Once  I  was  in  the  Lucy  Holmes,'^  said 
Manuel,  in  his  gentle  voice.  "They  not 
want  any  of  her  feesh  in  Gloucester.  Eh, 
wha-at?  Give  us  no  price.  So  we  go  across 
the  water,  and  think  to  sell  to  some  Fayal 
man.  Then  it  blow  fresh,  and  we  cannot  see 
well.  Eh,  wha-at  ?  Then  it  blow  some  more 
fresh,  and  we  go  down  below  and  drive  very 
fast — no  one  know  where.  By  and  by  we  see 
a  land,  and  it  get  some  hot.  Then  come 
two,  three  nigger  in  a  brick.  Eh,  wha-at? 
We  ask  where  we  are,  and  they  say  —  now, 
what  you  all  think  ?  " 

"  Grand  Canary,"  said  Disko,  after  a  mo- 
ment.    Manuel  shook  his  head,  smiling. 

"  Blanco,"  said  Tom  Piatt. 

"  No.  Worse  than  that.  We  was  below 
Bezagos,  and  the  brick  she  was  from  Liberia ! 
So  we  sell  our  feesh  there!  Not  bad,  so? 
Eh,  wha-at?" 


178  "CAPTAINS    COURAGEOUS" 

**  Can  a  schooner  like  this  go  right  across  to 
Africa?  "  said  Harvey. 

I  "  Go  araound  the  Horn  ef  there  *s  anythin' 
/  worth  goin'  fer,  and  the  grub  holds  aout,"  said 
\  Disko.  "  My  father  he  run  his  packet,  an' 
she  was  a  kind  o'  pinkey,  abaout  fifty  ton,  I 
guess, — iki^Rupert, —  he  runheroverto Green- 
land's icy  mountains  the  year  ha'af  our  fleet 
was  tryin'  after  cod  there.  An'  what  's  more, 
he  took  my  mother  along  with  him, —  to  show 
her  haow  the  money  was  earned,  I  presoom, — 
an'  they  was  all  iced  up,  an'  I  was  born  at 
Disko.  Don't  remember  nothin'  abaout  it,  o' 
course.  We  come  back  when  the  ice  eased 
in  the  spring,  but  they  named  me  fer  the 
place.  Kinder  mean  trick  to  put  up  on  a 
baby,  but  we  're  all  baound  to  make  mistakes 
in  aour  lives." 

"Sure!  Sure!"  said  Salters,  wagging  his 
head.  "  All  baound  to  make  mistakes,  an'  I 
tell  you  two  boys  here  thet  after  you  've  made 
a  mistake — ye  don't  make  fewer  'n  a  hundred 
a  day — the  next  best  thing  's  to  own  up  to  it 
like  men." 

Long  Jack  winked  one  tremendous  wink 
that  embraced  all  hands  except  Disko  and 
Salters,  and  the  incident  was  closed. 


"  CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  179 

Then  they  made  berth  after  berth  to  the 
northward,  the  dories  out  ahnost  every  day, 
running  along  the  east  edge  of  the  Grand 
Bank  in  thirty-  to  forty -fathom  water,  and 
fishing  steadily. 

It  was  here  Harvey  first  met  the  squid,  who 
is  one  of  the  best  cod-baits,  but  uncertain  in 
his  moods.  They  were  waked  out  of  their 
bunks  one  black  night  by  yells  of  "  Squid 
O  ! "  from  Salters,  and  for  an  hour  and  a  half 
every  soul  aboard  hung  over  his  squid-jig  — 
a  piece  of  lead  painted  red  and  armed  at  the 
lower  end  with  a  circle  of  pins  bent  backward 
like  half-opened  umbrella  ribs.  The  squid  — 
for  some  unknown  reason  —  likes,  and  wraps 
himself  round,  this  thing,  and  is  hauled  up  ere 
he  can  escape  from  the  pins.  But  as  he  leaves 
his  home  he  squirts  first  water  and  next  ink 
into  his  captor's  face ;  and  it  was  curious  to 
see  the  men  weaving  their  heads  from  side  to 
side  to  dodge  the  shot.  They  were  as  black 
as  sweeps  when  the  flurry  ended ;  but  a  pile 
of  fresh  squid  lay  on  the  deck,  and  the  large 
cod  thinks  very  well  of  a  little  shiny  piece  of 
squid-tentacle  at  the  tip  of  a  clam-baited  hook. 
Next  day  they  caught  many  fish,  and  met  the 
Carrie  Pitman,  to  whom  they  shouted  their 


l8o  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

luck,  and  she  wanted  to  trade  —  seven  cod  for 
one  fair-sized  squid;  but  Disko  would  not 
agree  at  the  price,  and  the  Carrie  dropped 
sullenly  to  leeward  and  anchored  half  a  mile 
away,  in  the  hope  of  striking  on  to  some  for 
herself 

Disko  said  nothing  till  after  supper,  when 
he  sent  Dan  and  Manuel  out  to  buoy  the 
We  're  Heres  cable  and  announced  his  inten- 
tion of  turning  in  with  the  broad-axe.  Dan 
naturally  repeated  these  remarks  to  a  dory 
from  the  Carrie,  who  wanted  to  know  why 
they  were  buoying  their  cable,  since  they  were 
not  on  rocky  bottom. 

"  Dad  sez  he  would  n't  trust  a  ferryboat 
within  five  mile  o'  you,"  Dan  howled  cheer- 
fully. 

"  Why  don't  he  git  out,  then  ?  Who  's  hin- 
derin'  ?  "  said  the  other. 

"'Cause  you  've  jest  the  same  ez  lee-bowed 
him,  an'  he  don't  take  that  from  any  boat, 
not  to  speak  o'  sech  a  driftin'  gurry-butt  as 
you  be." 

"  She  ain't  driftin'  any  this  trip,"  said  the 
man  angrily,  for  the  Carrie  Pitman  had  an 
unsavory  reputation  for  breaking  her  ground- 
tackle. 


*' CAPTAINS    COURAGEOUS"  l8i 

**  Then  haow  d'  you  make  berths  ? "  said 
Dan.  "  It  's  her  best  p'int  o'  sailin'.  An'  ef 
she  's  quit  driftin',  what  in  thunder  are  you 
doin'  with  a  new  jib-boom  ?  "  That  shot  went 
home. 

"  Hey,  you  Portugoosy  organ-grinder,  take 
your  monkey  back  to  Gloucester.  Go  back 
to  school,  Dan  Troop,"  was  the  answer. 

"  O-ver-alls !  O-ver-alls  !  "  yelled  Dan,  who 
knew  that  one  of  the  Carrie  s  crew  had  worked 
in  an  overall  factory  the  winter  before. 

"  Shrimp  !  Gloucester  shrimp  !  Git  aout, 
you  Novy ! " 

To  call  a  Gloucester  man  a  Nova  Scotian 
is  not  well  received.      Dan  answered  in  kind. 

"  Novy  yourself,  ye  Scrabble-towners !  ye 
Chatham  wreckers !  Git  aout  with  your  brick 
in  your  stockin' !  "  And  the  forces  separated, 
but  Chatham  had  the  worst  of  it. 

"I  knew  haow  't  would  be,"  said  Disko. 
"  She  's  drawed  the  wind  raound  already. 
Some  one  oughter  put  a  dee'^X'sX  on  thet 
packet.  She  'II  snore  till  midnight,  an'  jest 
when  we  're  gittin'  our  sleep  she  'II  strike 
adrift.  Good  job  we  ain't  crowded  with  craft 
hereaways.  But  I  ain't  goin'  to  up  anchor  fer 
Chatham.  She  may  hold." 
13 


i82  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

The  wind,  which  had  hauled  round,  rose  at 
sundown  and  blew  steadily.  There  was  not 
enough  sea,  though,  to  disturb  even  a  dory's 
tackle,  but  the  Carrie  Pitman  was  a  law  unto 
herself.  At  the  end  of  the  boys'  watch  they 
heard  the  crack-crack-crack  of  a  huge  muzzle- 
loading  revolver  aboard  her. 

"  Glory,  glory,  hallelujah ! "  sung  Dan. 
"  Here  she  comes,  dad  ;  butt-end  first,  walkin' 
in  her  sleep  same  's  she  done  on  '  Queereau." 

Had  she  been  any  other  boat  Disko  would 
have  taken  his  chances,  but  now  he  cut  the 
cable  as  the  Carrie  Pitman,  with  all  the  North 
Atlantic  to  play  in,  lurched  down  directly 
upon  them.  The  We  're  Here,  under  jib  and 
riding-sail,  gave  her  no  more  room  than  was 
absolutely  necessary, —  Disko  did  not  wish 
to  spend  a  week  hunting  for  his  cable, — 
but  scuttled  up  into  the  wind  as  the  Carrie 
passed  within  easy  hail,  a  silent  and  angry 
boat,  at  the  mercy  of  a  raking  broadside  of 
Bank  chaff.  • 

"  Good  evenin*,"  said  Disko,  raising  his 
head-gear,  **  an'  haow  does  your  garden 
grow  ?  " 

"  Go  to  Ohio  an'  hire  a  mule,"  said  Uncle 
Salters.     *'  We  don't  want  no  farmers  here." 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  183 

'*Will  I  lend  you  my  dory-anchor?  "  cried 
Long  Jack. 

"  Unship  your  rudder  an'  stick  it  in  the 
mud,"  said  Tom  Piatt. 

"  Say ! "  Dan's  voice  rose  shrill  and  high, 
as  he  stood  on  the  wheel-box.  "  Sa-ay  !  Is 
there  a  strike  in  the  o-ver-all  factory ;  or 
hev  they  hired  girls,  ye  Shackamaxons  ?  " 

"Veer  out  the  tiller-lines,"  cried  Harvey, 
"and  nail  'em  to  the  bottom."  .  That  was  a 
salt-flavored  jest  he  had  been  put  up  to  by 
Tom  Piatt.  Manuel  leaned  over  the  stern 
and  yelled  :  "  Johnna  Morgan  play  the  or- 
gan !  Ahaaaa ! "  He  flourished  his  broad 
thumb  with  a  gesture  of  unspeakable  con- 
tempt and  derision,  while  little  Penn  covered 
himself  with  glory  by  piping  up  :  "  Gee  a 
little  !     Hssh  !     Come  here.      Haw  !  " 

They  rode  on  their  chain  for  the  rest  of 
the  night,  a  short,  snappy,  uneasy  motion,  as 
Harvey  found,  and  wasted  half  the  forenoon 
recovering  the  cable.  But  the  boys  agreed 
the  trouble  was  cheap  at  the  price  of  triumph 
and  glory,  and  they  thought  with  grief  over 
all  the  beautiful  things  that  they  might  have 
said  to  the  discomfited  Carrie. 


CHAPTER  VII 

NEXT  day  they  fell  in  with  more  sails, 
all  circling  slowly  from  the  east  north- 
erly towards  the  west.  But  just  when  they 
expected  to  make  the  shoals  by  the  Virgin 
the  fog  shut  down,  and  they  anchored,  sur- 
rounded by  the  tinklings  of  invisible  bells. 
There  was  not  much  fishing,  but  occasionally 
dory  met  dory  in  the  fog  and  exchanged 
news. 

That  night,  a  little  before  dawn,  Dan  and 
Harvey,  who  had  been  sleeping  most  of  the 
day,  tumbled  out  to  "  hook  "  fried  pies.  There 
was  no  reason  why  they  should  not  have 
taken  them  openly ;  but  they  tasted  better 
so,  and  it  made  the  cook  angry.  The  heat 
and  smell  belov/  drove  them  on  deck  with 
their  plunder,  and  they  found  Disko  at  the 
bell,  which  he  handed  over  to   Harvey. 

"Keep  her  goin',"  said  he.  "I  mistrust  I 
hear  somethin'.  Ef  it  's  anything,  I  'm  best 
where  I  am  so  's  to  get  at  things." 

184 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  185 

It  was  a  forlorn  little  jingle ;  the  thick 
air  seemed  to  pinch  it  off;  and  in  the  pauses 
Harvey  heard  the  muffled  shriek  of  a  liner's 
siren,  and  he  knew  enough  of  the  Banks  to 
know  what  that  meant.  It  came  to  him, 
with  horrible  distinctness,  how  a  boy  in  a 
cherry-colored  jersey —  he  despised  fancy 
blazers  now  with  all  a  fisherman's  contempt 

—  how  an  ignorant,  rowdy  boy  had  once 
said  it  would  be  "great"  if  a  steamer  ran 
down  a  fishing-boat.  That  boy  had  a  state- 
room with  a  hot  and  cold  bath,  and  spent 
ten  minutes  each  morning  picking  over  a 
gilt-edged  bill  of  fare.     And  that  same  boy 

—  no,  his  very  much  older  brother — was  up 
at  four  of  the  dim  dawn  in  streaming,  crack- 
ling oilskins,  hammering,  literally  for  the  dear 
life,  on  a  bell  smaller  than  the  steward's 
breakfast-bell,  while  somewhere  close  at 
hand  a  thirty-foot  steel  stem  was  storming 
along  at  twenty  miles  an  hour!  The  bitter- 
est thought  of  all  was  that  there  were  folks 
asleep  in  dry,  upholstered  cabins  who  would 
never  learn  that  they  had  massacred  a  boat 
before  breakfast.     So  Harvey  rang  the  bell. 

"  Yes,  they  slow  daown   one  turn  o'  their 
blame  propeller,"  said  Dan,  applying  himself 


i86  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

to  Manuel's  conch,  "  fer  to  keep  inside  the  law, 
an'  that  's  consolin'  when  we  *re  all  at  the 
bottom.     Hark  to  her !     She  's  a  huniper  !  " 

''Aoooo  —  whoooo  —  whiippf  went  the 
siren.  "  Wingle  —  tingle  —  link,''  went  the 
bell.  "  Graaa  —  oiich  /  "  went  the  conch,  while 
sea  and  sky  were  all  milled  up  in  milky  fog. 
Then  Harvey  felt  that  he  was  near  a  moving 
body,  and  found  himself  looking  up  and  up  at 
the  wet  edge  of  a  cliff-like  bow,  leaping,  it 
seemed,  directly  over  the  schooner.  A  jaunty 
little  feather  of  water  curled  in  front  of  it,  and 
as  it  lifted  it  showed  a  long  ladder  of  Roman 
numerals  —  XV.,  XVI.,  XVII. ,  XVIII.,  and  so 
forth  —  on  a  salmon-colored,  gleaming  side. 
It  tilted  forward  and  downward  with  a  heart- 
stilling  "  Ssssooo  ";  the  ladder  disappeared  ; 
a  line  of  brass-rimmed  port-holes  flashed 
past;  a  jet  of  steam  puffed  in  Harvey's  help- 
lessly uplifted  hands ;  a  spout  of  hot  water 
roared  along  the  rail  of  the  We  're  Here, 
and  the  little  schooner  staggered  and  shook 
in  a  rush  of  screw-torn  water,  as  a  liner's 
stern  vanished  in  the  fog.  Harvey  got  ready 
to  faint  or  be  sick,  or  both,  when  he  heard 
a  crack  like  a  trunk  thrown  on  a  sidewalk, 
and,  all  small  in  his  ear,  a  far-away  telephone 


"CAPTAINS    COURAGEOUS"  187 

voice  drawling:  "Heave  to!  You  've  sunk 
us ! 

"  Is  it  us  ?  "  he  g-asped. 

**  No  !  Boat  out  yonder.  Ring  !  We  're 
goin*  to  look,"  said  Dan,  running  out  a  dory. 

In  half  a  minute  all  except  Harvey,  Penn, 
and  the  cook  were  overside  and  away.  Pres- 
ently a  schooner's  stump-foremast,  snapped 
clean  across,  drifted  past  the  bows.  Then 
an  empty  green  dory  came  by,  knocking  on 
the  We  We  Heres  side,  as  though  she  wished 
to  be  taken  in.  Then  followed  something, 
face  down,  in  a  blue  jersey,  but — it  was  not 
the  whole  of  a  man.  Penn  changed  color 
and  caught  his  breath  with  a  click.  Harvey 
pounded  despairingly  at  the  bell,  for  he  feared 
they  might  be  sunk  at  any  minute,  and  he 
jumped  at  Dan's  hail  as  the  crew  came  back. 

"The  Jennie  Cushman'''  said  Dan,  hysteri- 
cally, "  cut  clean  in  half —  graound  up  an' 
trompled  on  at  that !  Not  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  away.  Dad 's  got  the  old  man.  There 
ain't  anyone  else,  and  —  there  was  his  son 
too.  Oh,  Harve,  Harve,  I  can't  stand  it ! 
I  've  seen — "  He  dropped  his  head  on  his 
arms  and  sobbed  while  the  others  dragged 
a  gray-headed  man  aboard. 


i88  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

"What  did  you  pick  me  up  for?"  the 
stranger  groaned.  "  Disko,  what  did  you 
pick  me  up  for  ?  " 

Disko  dropped  a  heavy  hand  on  his 
shoulder,  for  the  man's  eyes  were  wild  and 
his  lips  trembled  as  he  stared  at  the  silent 
crew.  Then  up  and  spoke  Pennsylvania 
Pratt,  who  was  also  Haskins  or  Rich  or 
McVitty  when  Uncle  Salters  forgot ;  and  his 
face  was  changed  on  him  from  the  face  of  a 
fool  to  the  countenance  of  an  old,  wise  man, 
and  he  said  in  a  strong-  voice:  "The  Lord 
gave,  and  the  Lord  hath  taken  away;  blessed 
be  the  name  of  the  Lord!  I  was  —  I  am  a 
minister  of  the  Gospel.      Leave  him  to  me." 

"  Oh,  you  be,  be  you  ? "  said  the  man. 
"  Then  pray  my  son  back  to  me  !  Pray  back 
a  nine-thousancl-dollar  boat  an'  a  thousand 
quintal  of  fish.  If  you  'd  left  me  alone  my 
widow  could  ha'  gone  on  to  the  Provident 
an'  worked  fer  her  board,  an'  never  known 
— an'  never  known.  Now  I  '11  hev  to  tell 
her." 

"There  ain't  nothin'  to  say,"  said  Disko. 
"  Better  lie  down  a  piecejasgn  011ey._ll_ 

When  a  man  has  lost  his  only  son,  his 
summer's  work,  and  his  means  of  livelihood, 


"CAPTAINS    COURAGEOUS"  189 

in  thirty  counted  seconds,  it  is  hard  to  give 
consolation. 

"All  Gloucester  men,  was  n't  they,"  said 
Tom  Piatt,  fiddling  helplessly  with  a  dory- 
becket. 

"  Oh,  that  don't  make  no  odds,"  said 
Jason,  wringing  the  wet  from  his  beard. 
"  I  '11  be  rowin'  summer  boarders  araound 
East  Gloucester  this  fall."  He  rolled  heavily 
to  the  rail,  singing  : 

"  Happy  birds  that  sing  and  fly- 
Round  thine  altars,  O  Most  High ! " 

"  Come  with  me.  Come  below  !  "  said  Penn, 
as  though  he  had  a  right  to  give  orders. 
Their  eyes  met  and  fought  for  a  quarter  of 
a  minute. 

"  I  dunno  who  you  be,  but  I  '11  come,"  said 
Jason,  submissively.  "  Mebbe  I  '11  get  back 
some  o'  the  —  some  o'  the  —  nine  thousand 
dollars."  Penn  led  him  into  the  cabin  and 
slid  the  door  behind. 

"That  ain't  Penn,"  cried  Uncle  Salters. 
"  It  's  Jacob  Boiler,  an' — he  's  remembered 
Johnstown  !  I  never  seed  such  eyes  in  any 
livin'  man's  head.  What  's  to  do  naow  ? 
What  '11  I  do  naow  ?  " 


IQO  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

They  could  hear  Penn's  voice  and  Jason's 
together.  Then  Penn's  went  on  alone,  and 
Salters  slipped  off  his  hat,  for  Penn  was  pray- 
ing. Presently  the  little  man  came  up  the 
steps,  huge  drops  of  sweat  on  his  face,  and 
looked  at  the  crew.  Dan  was  still  sobbing  by 
the  wheel. 

"  He  don't  know  us,"  Salters  groaned. 
"  It  's  all  to  do  over  again,  checkers  and 
everything  —  an'  what  '11  he  say  to  me?''' 

Penn  spoke  ;  they  could  hear  that  it  was 
to  strangers.  "  I  have  prayed,"  said  he. 
"  Our  people  believe  in  prayer.  I  have 
prayed  for  the  life  of  this  man's  son.  Mine 
were  drowned  before  my  eyes  —  she  and  my 
eldest  and  —  the  others.  Shall  a  man  be 
more  wise  than  his  Maker  ?  I  prayed  never 
for  their  lives,  but  I  have  prayed  for  this 
man's  son,  and  he  will  surely  be  sent  him." 

Salters  looked  pleadingly  at  Penn  to  see 
if  he  remembered. 

"How  long  have  I  been  mad?"  Penn  asked 
suddenly.     His  mouth  was  twitching. 

"  Pshaw,  Penn  !  You  were  n't  never  mad," 
Salters  began.  "  Only  a  little  distracted 
like." 

"  I  saw  the  houses  strike  the  bridge  before 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  191 

the  fires  broke  out.  I  do  not  remember  any 
more.     How  long  ago  is  that  ?  " 

"I  can't  stand  it!  I  can't  stand  it!"  cried 
Dan,  and  Harvey  whimpered  in  sympathy. 

"  Abaout  five  year,"  said  Disko,  in  a  shak- 
ing voice. 

"Then  I  have  been  a  charge  on  some  one 
for  every  day  of  that  time.  Who  was  the 
man : 

Disko  pointed  to  Salters. 

"  Ye  hain't  —  ye  hain't !  "  cried  the  sea-far- 
mer, twisting  his  hands  together.  "  Ye  've 
more  'n  earned  your  keep  twice-told ;  an' 
there  's  money  owin'  you,  Penn,  besides  ha'af 
o'  my  quarter-share  in  the  boat,  which  is  yours 
fer  value  received." 

"  You  are  good  men.  I  can  see  that  in 
your  faces.      But  — " 

*'  Mother  av  Mercy,"  whispered  Long  Jack, 
"  an'  he  's  been  wid  us  all  these  trips  !  He  's 
clean  bewitched." 

A  schooner's  bell  struck  up  alongside,  and 
a  voice  hailed  through  the  fog:  "O  Disko  I 
'Heard  abaout  the  Jennie  Ciishmanf 

"They  have  found  his  son,"  cried  Penn. 
"  Stand  you  still  and  see  the  salvation  of  the 
Lord ! " 


192  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

"  Got  Jason  aboard  here,"  Disko  answered, 
but  his  voice  quavered.  "  There — war  n't  any 
one  else  ?  " 

"We  've  fund  one,  though.  'Run  acrost 
him  snarled  up  in  a  mess  o'  lumber  thet 
might  ha'  bin  a  foc'sle.  His  head  's  cut 
some." 

"Who  is  he?" 

The  We  're  Hercs  heart-beats  answered 
one  another. 

"  Guess  it  's  young  Olley,"  the  voice 
drawled. 

Penn  raised  his  hands  and  said  something 
in  German.  Harvey  could  have  sworn  that  a 
bright  sun  was  shining  upon  his  lifted  face  ; 
but  the  drawl  went  on  :  "  Sa-ay  !  You  fellers 
guyed  us  consid'rable  t'  other  night." 

"We  don't  feel  like  guyin'  any  now,"  s&id 
Disko. 

"  I  know  it;  but  to  tell  the  honest  truth  we 
was  kinder — kinder  driftin'  when  we  run  agin 
young  Olley." 

It  was  the  irrepressible  Carrie  Pitman,  and 
a  roar  of  unsteady  laughter  went  up  from  the 
deck  of  the   We  're  Here. 

"  Hed  n't  you  'baout  's  well  send  the  old 
man   aboard?     We   're    runnin'   in    fer    more 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  193 

bait  an'  graound-tackle.  Guess  you  won't 
want  him,  anyway,  an'  this  blame  windlass 
work  makes  us  short-handed.  We  '11  take 
care  of  him.     He  married  my  woman's  aunt." 

"  I  '11  give  you  anything  in  the  boat,"  said 
Troop. 

"  Don't  want  nothin',  'less,  mebbe,  an  anchor 
that  '11  hold.  Say!  Young  Olley  's  gittin' 
kinder  baulky  an'  excited.  Send  the  old  man 
along." 

Penn  waked  him  from  his  stupor  of  despair, 
and  Tom  Piatt  rowed  him  over.  He  went 
away  without  a  word  of  thanks,  not  knowing 
what  was  to  come ;  and  the  fog  closed  over  all. 

"And  now,"  said  Penn,  drawing  a  deep 
breath  as  though  about  to  preach.  "  And 
now " —  the  erect  body  sank  like  a  sword 
driven  home  into  the  scabbard ;  the  light 
faded  from  the  overbright  eyes ;  the  voice 
returned  to  its  usual  pitiful  little  titter — "and 
now,"  said  Pennsylvania  Pratt,  "do  you  think 
it  's  too  early  for  a  little  game  of  checkers, 
Mr.  Salters.?" 

"The  very  thing  —  the  very  thing  I  was 
goin'  to  say  myself,"  cried  Salters  promptly. 
"  It  beats  all,  Penn,  how  ye  git  on  to  what  's 
in  a  man's  mind." 


194  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

The  little  fellow  blushed  and  meekly  fol- 
lowed Salters  forward. 

"  Up  anchor !  Hurry  !  Let  's  quit  these 
crazy  waters,"  shouted  Disko,  and  never  was 
he  more  swiftly  obeyed. 

"  Now  wh^t  in  creation  d'  ye  suppose  is  the 
meanin'  o'  that  all  ?  "  said  Long  Jack,  when 
they  were  working  through  the  fog  once 
more,  damp,  dripping,  and  bewildered. 

"The  way  I  sense  it,"  said  Disko,  at  the 
wheel,  "  is  this:  The  Jennie  Cushman  business 
comin'  on  an'  empty  stummick " 

"  He  —  we  saw  one  of  them  go  by,"  sobbed 
Harvey. 

**  An'  that,  o  course,  kinder  hove  him  outer 
water,  julluk  runnin'  a  craft  ashore ;  hove  him 
right  aout,  I  take  it,  to  rememberin'  Johns- 
town an'  Jacob  Boiler  an'  such-like  reminis- 
cences. Well,  consolin'  Jason  there  held  him 
up  a  piece,  same  's  shorin'  up  a  boat.  Then, 
bein'  weak,  them  props  slipped  an'  slipped,  an' 
he  slided  down  the  ways,  an'  naow  he  's  water- 
borne  agin.     That  *s  haow  /  sense  it." 

They  decided  that  Disko  was  entirely  cor- 
rect. 

"'T  would  ha'  bruk  Salters  all  up,"  said 
Long  Jack,  "  if  Penn  had  stayed  Jacob  Bol- 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS^'  195 

lerin'.  Did  ye  see  his  face  when  Penn  asked 
who  he  'd  been  charged  on  all  these  years  ? 
How  is  ut,  Salters  ?  " 

"  Asleep  —  dead  asleep.  Turned  in  like  a 
child,"  Salters  replied,  tiptoeing  aft.  "  There 
won't  be  no  grub  till  he  wakes,  natural.  Did 
ye  ever  see  sech  a  gift  in  prayer  ?  He  ever- 
lastin'ly  hiked  young  Olley  outer  the  ocean. 
Thet  's  my  belief.  Jason  was  tur'ble  praoud 
of  his  boy,  an'  I  mistrusted  all  along  't  was  a 
jedgment  on  worshipin'  vain  idols." 

"  There  's  others  jest  as  sot,"  said  Disko. 

"That  's  dif'runt,"  Salters  retorted  quickly. 
"  Penn  's  not  all  caulked,  an'  I  ain't  only  but 
doin'  my  duty  by  him." 

They  waited,  those  hungry  men,  three  hours, 
till  Penn  reappeared  with  a  smooth  face  and  a 
blank  mind.  He  said  he  believed  that  he  had 
been  dreaming.  Then  he  wanted  to  know 
why  they  were  so  silent,  and  they  could  not 
tell  him. 

Disko  worked  all  hands  mercilessly  for  the 
next  three  or  four  days ;  and  when  they  could 
not  go  out,  turned  them  into  the  hold  to  stack 
the  ship's  stores  into  smaller  compass,  to  make 
more  room  for  the  fish.  The  packed  mass 
ran   from   the   cabin   partition   to   the  sliding 


196  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

door  behind  the  foc'sle  stove ;  and  Disko 
showed  how  there  is  great  art  in  stowing 
caro^o  so  as  to  brino-  a  schooner  to  her  best 
draft.  The  crew  were  thus  kept  hvely  till 
they  recovered  their  spirits ;  and  Harvey  was 
tickled  with  a  rope's  end  by  Long  Jack  for 
being,  as  the  Galway  man  said,  **  sorrowful 
as  a  sick  cat  over  fwhat  could  n't  be  helped." 
He  did  a  great  deal  of  thinking  in  those 
dreary  days ;  and  told  Dan  what  he  thought, 
and  Dan  agreed  with  him  —  even  to  the  ex- 
tent of  asking  for  fried  pies  instead  of  hook- 
ing them. 

But  a  week  later  the  two  nearly  upset  the 
Hattie  S.  in  a  wild  attempt  to  stab  a  shark 
with  an  old  bayonet  tied  to  a  stick.  The  grim 
brute  rubbed  alongside  the  dory  begging  for 
small  fish,  and  between  the  three  of  them  it 
was  a  mercy  they  all  got  off  alive. 

At  last,  after  playing  blindman's-buff  In 
the  fog,  there  came  a  morning  when  Disko 
shouted  down  the  foc'sle:  "Hurry,  boys! 
We  're  in  taown ! " 


CHAPTER  VIII 

TO  the  end  of  his  days,  Harvey  will  never 
forget  that  sight.  The  sun  was  just  clear 
of  the  horizon  they  had  not  seen  for  nearly  a 
week,  and  his  low  red  light  struck  into  the 
ridinof-sails  of  three  fleets  of  anchored  schoon- 
ers  —  one  to  the  north,  one  to  the  westward, 
and  one  to  the  south.  There  must  have  been 
nearly  a  hundred  of  them,  of  every  possible 
make  and  build,  with,  far  away,  a  square- 
rigged  Frenchman,  all  bowing  and  courtesy- 
ing  one  to  the  other.  From  every  boat  dories 
were  dropping  away  like  bees  from  a  crowded 
hive ;  and  the  clamor  of  voices,  the  rattling 
of  ropes  and  blocks,  and  the  splash  of  the  oars 
carried  for  miles  across  the  heaving  water. 
The  sails  turned  all  colors,  black,  pearly- 
gray,  and  white,  as  the  sun  mounted ;  and 
more  boats  swung  up  through  the  mists  to 
the  southward. 

The  dories  gathered  in  clusters,  separated, 
197 


198  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

reformed,  and  broke  again,  all  heading  one 
way ;  while  men  hailed  and  whistled  and  cat- 
called and  sang,  and  the  water  was  speckled 
with  rubbish  thrown  overboard. 

"It  's  a  town,"  said  Harvey.  "Disko  was 
right.     It  is  3.  town  !  " 

"  I  've  seen  smaller,"  said  Disko.  "  There  's 
about  a  thousand  men  here ;  an'  yonder  's  the 
Virgin."  He  pointed  to  a  vacant  space  of 
greenish  sea,  where  there  were  no  dories. 

The  We  're  Here  skirted  round  the  north- 
ern squadron,  Disko  waving  his  hand  to  friend 
after  friend,  and  anchored  as  neatly  as  a  rac- 
ing yacht  at  the  end  of  the  season.  The  Bank 
fleet  pass  good  seamanship  in  silence  ;  but  a 
bungler  is  jeered  all  along  the  line. 

"Jest  in  time  fer  the  caplin,"  cried  the 
Mary  Chilton. 

"  'Salt  'most  wet?  "  asked  the  King  Philip. 

"  Hey,  Tom  Piatt !  Come  t'  supper  to- 
night ?  "  said  the  Henry  Clay ;  and  so  ques- 
tions and  answers  flew  back  and  forth.  Men 
had  met  one  another  before,  dory- fishing  in  the 
fog,  and  there  is  no  place  for  gossip  like  the 
Bank  fleet.  They  all  seemed  to  know  about 
Harvey's  rescue,  and  asked  if  he  were  worth  his 
salt  yet.     The  young  bloods  jested  with  Dan, 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  199 

who  had  a  lively  tongue  of  his  own,  and 
inquired  after  their  health  by  the  town-nick- 
names they  least  liked.  Manuel's  country- 
men jabbered  at  him  in  their  own  language ; 
and  even  the  silent  cook  was  seen  riding  the 
jib-boom  and  shouting  Gaelic  to  a  friend  as 
black  as  himself  After  they  had  buoyed 
the  cable  —  all  around  the  Virgin  is  rocky 
bottom,  and  carelessness  means  chafed 
ground-tackle  and  danger  from  drifting  — 
after  they  had  buoyed  the  cable,  their  dories 
went  forth  to  join  the  mob  of  boats  anchored 
about  a  mile  away.  The  schooners  rocked 
and  dipped  at  a  safe  distance,  like  mother 
ducks  watching  their  brood,  while  the  dories 
behaved  like  mannerless  ducklings. 

As  they  drove  into  the  confusion,  boat 
banging  boat,  Harvey's  ears  tingled  at  the 
comments  on  his  rowing.  Every  dialect  from 
Labrador  to  Long  Island,  with  Portuguese, 
Neapolitan,  Lingua  Franca,  French,  and 
Gaelic,  with  songs  and  shoutings  and  new 
oaths,  rattled  round  him,  and  he  seemed  to 
be  the  butt  of  it  all.  For  the  first  time 
in  his  life  he  felt  shy  —  perhaps  that  came 
from  living  so  long  with  only  the  We  're 
Heres  —  among    the    scores    of    wild    faces 


200  "CAPTAINS    COURAGEOUS" 

that  rose  and  fell  with  the  reeling  small 
craft.  A  gentle,  breathing  swell,  three  fur- 
longs from  trough  to  barrel,  would  quietly 
shoulder  up  a  string  of  variously  painted 
dories.  They  hung  for  an  instant,  a  won- 
derful frieze  against  the  sky-line,  and  their 
men  pointed  and  hailed.  Next  moment  the 
open  mouths,  waving  arms,  and  bare  chests 
disappeared,  while  on  another  swell  came  up 
an  entirely  new  line  of  characters  like  paper 
figures  in  a  toy  theatre.  So  Harvey  stared. 
"  Watch  out !  "  said  Dan,  flourishing  a  dip- 
net.  "When  I  tell  you  dip,  you  dip.  The 
caplin  '11  school  any  time  from  naow  on. 
Where  '11  we  lay,  Tom  Piatt?" 

Pushing,  shoving,  and  hauling,  greeting  old 
friends  here  and  warning  old  enemies  there, 
Commodore  Tom  Piatt  led  his  little  fleet 
well  to  leeward  of  the  general  crowd,  and 
immediately  three  or  four  men  began  to 
haul  on  their  anchors  with  intent  to  lee-bow 
the  We  're  Heres.  But  a  yell  of  laughter 
went  up  as  a  dory  shot  from  her  station 
with  exceeding  speed,  its  occupant  pulling 
madly  on  the  roding, 

"  Give  her  slack  ! "  roared  twenty  voices. 
"Let  him  shake  it  out." 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  201 

*'  What  *s  the  matter  ?  "  said  Harvey,  as 
the  boat  flashed  away  to  the  southward. 
**  He  's  anchored,  is  n't  he  ?  " 

**  Anchored,  sure  enough,  but  his  graound- 
tackle  's  kinder  shifty,"  said  Dan,  laughing. 
"  Whale  's  fouled  it.  .  .  .  Dip,  Harve ! 
Here  they  come  !  " 

The  sea  round  them  clouded  and  dark- 
ened, and  then  frizzed  up  in  showers  of  tiny 
silver  fish,  and  over  a  space  of  five  or  six 
acres  the  cod  began  to  leap  like  trout  in 
May ;  while  behind  the  cod  three  or  four 
broad  gray-black  backs  broke  the  water 
into   boils. 

Then  everybody  shouted  and  tried  to  haul 
up  his  anchor  to  get  among  the  school,  and 
fouled  his  neighbor's  line  and  said  what  was 
in  his  heart,  and  dipped  furiously  with  his 
dip-net,  and  shrieked  cautions  and  advice  to 
his  companions,  while  the  deep  fizzed  like 
freshly  opened  soda-water,  and  cod,  men, 
and  whales  together  flung  in  upon  the  luck- 
less bait.  Harvey  was  nearly  knocked  over- 
board by  the  handle  of  Dan's  net.  But  in  all 
the  wild  tumult  he  noticed,  and  never  forgot, 
the  wicked,  set  little  eye  —  something  like  a 
circus  elephant's  eye  —  of  a  whale  that  drove 


202  "CAPTAINS  COURAGEOUS" 

along  almost  level  with  the  water,  and,  so  he 
said,  winked  at  him.  Three  boats  found  their 
rodings  fouled  by  these  reckless  mid-sea 
hunters,  and  were  towed  half  a  mile  ere  their 
horses  shook  the  line  free. 

Then  the  caplin  moved  off,  and  five  min- 
utes later  there  was  no  sound  except  the 
splash  of  the  sinkers  overside,  the  flapping 
of  the  cod,  and  the  whack  of  the  muckles 
as  the  men  stunned  them.  It  was  wonderful 
fishing.  Harvey  could  see  the  glimmering 
cod  below,  swimming  slowly  in  droves,  biting 
as  steadily  as  they  swam.  Bank  law  strictly 
forbids  more  than  one  hook  on  one  line  when 
the  dories  are  on  the  Virgin  or  the  Eastern 
Shoals;  but  so  close  lay  the  boats  that  even 
single  hooks  snarled,  and  Harvey  found  him- 
self in  hot  argument  with  a  gentle,  hairy 
Newfoundlander  on  one  side  and  a  howling 
Portuguese  on  the  other. 

Worse  than  any  tangle  of  fishing-lines  was 
the  confusion  of  the  dory-rodings  below  water. 
Each  man  had  anchored  where  it  seemed  good 
to  him,  drifting  and  rowing  round  his  fixed 
point.  As  the  fish  struck  on  less  quickly, 
each  man  wanted  to  haul  up  and  get  to  better 
ground;   but  every  third   man  found  himself 


IT   WAS   WONDERFUL   FISHING.      HARVEY   COULD    SEE    THE   GLIM- 
MERING  COD   BELOW,    .    .    .    BITING  AS   STEADILY  AS   THEY 
SWAM.     .     .     .     BUT   SO   CLOSE   LAY  THE   BOATS 
THAT  EVEN   SINGLE    HOOKS   SNARLED." 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  205 

intimately  connected  with  some  four  or  five 
neighbors.  To  cut  another's  roding  is  crime 
unspeakable  on  the  Banks ;  yet  it  was  done, 
and  done  without  detection,  three  or  four 
times  that  day.  Tom  Piatt  caught  a  Maine 
man  in  the  black  act  and  knocked  him  over 
the  gunwale  with  an  oar,  and  Manuel  served 
a  fellow-countryman  in  the  same  way.  But 
Harvey's  anchor-line  was  cut,  and  so  was 
Penn's,  and  they  were  turned  into  relief-boats 
to  carry  fish  to  the  We  're  Here  as  the  dories 
filled.  The  caplin  schooled  once  more  at 
twilight,  when  the  mad  clamor  was  repeated ; 
and  at  dusk  they  rowed  back  to  dress  down 
by  the  light  of  kerosene-lamps  on  the  edge 
of  the  pen. 

It  was  a  huge  pile,  and  they  went  to  sleep 
while  they  were  dressing.  Next  day  several 
boats  fished  right  above  the  cap  of  the  Vir- 
gin ;  and  Harvey,  with  them,  looked  down  on 
the  very  weed  of  that  lonely  rock,  which  rises 
to  within  twenty  feet  of  the  surface.  The  cod 
were  there  in  legions,  marching  solemnly  over 
the  leathery  kelp.  When  they  bit,  they  bit 
all  together;  and  so  when  they  stopped. 
There  was  a  slack  time  at  noon,  and  the  do- 
ries began  to  search  for  amusement.     It  was 


2o6  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

Dan  who  sighted  the  Hope  of  Prague  just 
coming  up,  and  as  her  boats  joined  the 
company  they  were  greeted  with  the  ques- 
tion :  "  Who  's  the  meanest  man  in  the 
Fleet?" 

Three  hundred  voices  answered  cheerily : 
"  Nick  Bra-ady."  It  sounded  like  an  organ 
chant. 

"Who  stole  the  lamp-wicks?"  That  was 
Dan's  contribution. 

"  Nick  Bra-ady,"  sang  the  boats. 

"  Who  biled  the  salt  bait  fer  soup  ?  "  This 
was  an  unknown  backbiter  a  quarter  of  a 
mile    away. 

Again  the  joyful  chorus.  Now,  Brady 
was  not  especially  mean,  but  he  had  that 
reputation,  and  the  Fleet  made  the  most  of 
it.  Then  they  discovered  a  man  from  a 
Truro  boat  who,  six  years  before,  had  been 
convicted  of  using  a  tackle  with  five  or  six 
hooks — a  "  scrowger,"  they  call  it-— on  the 
Shoals.  Naturally,  he  had  been  christened 
'*  Scrowger  Jim";  and  though  he  had  hidden 
himself  on  the  Georges  ever  since,  he  found 
his  honors  waiting  for  him  full  blown.  They 
took  it  up  in  a  sort  of  fire-cracker  chorus: 
"Jim!     O  Jim !     Jim:     6^  Jim!    Sssscrowgei' 


"CAPTAINS    COURAGEOUS"  207 

Jim!"  That  pleased  everybody.  And  when 
a  poetical  Beverly  man  —  he  had  been  mak- 
ing it  up  all  day,  and  talked  about  it  for 
weeks  —  sang,  "The  Carrie  Pitman s  anchor 
does  n't  hold  her  for  a  (ient !  '•'  the  dories  felt 
that  they  were  indeed  fortunate.  Then  they 
had  to  ask  that  Beverly  man  how  he  was 
off  for  beans,  because  even  poets  must  not 
have  things  all  their  own  way.  Every 
schooner  and  nearly  every  man  got  it  in 
turn.  Was  there  a  careless  or  dirty  cook 
anywhere  ?  The  dories  sang  about  him  and 
his  food.  Was  a  schooner  badly  found? 
The  Fleet  was  told  at  full  length.  Had  a 
man  hooked  tobacco  from  a  messmate  ?  He 
was  named  in  meeting ;  the  name  tossed 
from  roller  to  roller.  Disko's  infallible  judg- 
ments, Long  Jack's  market-boat  that  he  had 
sold  years  ago,  Dan's  sweetheart  (oh,  but 
Dan  was  an  angry  boy !),  Penn's  bad  luck 
with  dory-anchors,  Salters's  views  on  manure, 
Manuel's  little  slips  from  virtue  ashore,  and 
Harvey's  ladylike  handling  of  the  oar  —  all 
were  laid  before  the  public ;  and  as  the  fog 
fell  around  them  in  silvery  sheets  beneath 
the  sun,  the  voices  sounded  like  a  bench  of 
invisible  judges  pronouncing  sentence. 


2o8  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

The  dories  roved  and  fished  and  squab- 
bled till  a  swell  underran  the  sea.  Then 
they  drew  more  apart  to  save  their  sides, 
and  some  one  called  that  if  the  swell  con- 
tinued the  Virgin  would  break.  A  reckless 
Galway  man  with  his  nephew  denied  this, 
hauled  up  anchor,  and  rowed  over  the  very 
rock  itself.  Many  voices  called  them  to  come 
away,  while  others  dared  them  to  hold  on. 
As  the  smooth-backed  rollers  passed  to  the 
southward,  they  hove  the  dory  high  and  high 
into  the  mist,  and  dropped  her  in  ugly,  suck- 
ing, dimpled  water,  where  she  spun  round 
her  anchor,  within  a  foot  or  two  of  the  hidden 
rock.  It  was  playing  with  death  for  mere 
bravado ;  and  the  boats  looked  on  in  uneasy 
silence  till  Long  Jack  rowed  up  behind  his 
countrymen  and  quietly  cut  their  roding. 

"  Can't  ye  hear  ut  knockin'  ? "  he  cried. 
"  Pull  for  your  miserable  lives  !     Pull !  " 

The  men  swore  and  tried  to  argue  as  the 
boat  drifted ;  but  the  next  swell  checked  a 
little,  like  a  man  tripping  on  a  carpet.  There 
was  a  deep  sob  and  a  gathering  roar,  and 
the  Virgin  flung  up  a  couple  of  acres  of  foam- 
ing water,  white,  furious,  and  ghastly  over 
the  shoal  sea.    Then  all  the  boats  greatly  ap- 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  209 

plauded    Long    Jack,    and    the    Galway   men 
held  their  tongue. 

"Ain't  it  elegant?"  said  Dan,  bobbing  like 
a  young  seal  at  home.  "  She  '11  break  about 
once  every  ha'af  hour  now,  'less  the  swell 
piles  up  good.  What 's  her  reg'lar  time  when 
she  's  at  work,  Tom  Piatt  ?  " 

"  Once  ivry  fifteen  minutes,  to  the  tick. 
Harve,  you  've  seen  the  greatest  thing  on  the 
Banks ;  an'  but  for  Long  Jack  you  'd  seen 
some  dead  men  too." 

There  came  a  sound  of  merriment  where 
the  fog  lay  thicker  and  the  schooners  were 
rinofine  their  bells.  A  bior  bark  nosed  cau- 
tiously  out  of  the  mist,  and  was  received  with 
shouts  and  cries  of,  "  Come  along,  darlin'," 
from  the  Irishry. 

"Another  Frenchman?"  said  Harvey. 

"Hain't  you  eyes?  She  's  a  Baltimore 
boat;  goin'  in  fear  an'  tremblin',"  said  Dan. 
*'  We  '11  guy  the  very  sticks  out  of  her.  Guess 
it  's  the  fust  time  her  skipper  ever  met  up 
with  the  Fleet  this  way." 

She  was  a  black,  buxom,  eight-hundred- 
ton  craft.  Her  mainsail  was  looped  up,  and 
her  topsail  flapped  undecidedly  in  what  little 
wind  was  moving.     Now  a  bark  is  feminine 


2IO  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

beyond  all  other  daughters  of  the  sea,  and 
this  tall,  hesitating  creature,  with  her  white 
and  gilt  figurehead,  looked  just  like  a  bewil- 
dered woman  half  lifting  her  skirts  to  cross  a 
muddy  street  under  the  jeers  of  bad  little 
boys.  That  was  very  much  her  situation. 
She  knew  she  was  somewhere  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  the  Virgin,  had  caught  the  roar  of 
it,  and  was,  therefore,  asking  her  way.  This 
is  a  small  part  of  what  she  heard  from  the 
dancing  dories : 

**  The  Virgin  ?  Fwhat  are  you  talkin'  of? 
This  is  Le  Have  on  a  Sunday  mornin*.  Go 
home  an'  sober  up." 

"  Go  home,  ye  tarrapin  !  Go  home  an'  tell 
'em  we  're  comin'." 

Half  a  dozen  voices  together,  in  a  most 
tuneful  chorus,  as  her  stern  went  down  with 
a  roll  and  a  bubble  into  the  troughs:  "  Thay- 
aah  —  she  —  strikes  !  " 

"  Hard  up  !  Hard  up  fer  your  life  !  You're 
on  top  of  her  now." 

"  Daown  !  Hard  daown  !  Let  go  every- 
thing ! " 

**  All  hands  to  the  pumps  !  " 

"  Daown  jib  an'  pole  her  !  " 

Here  the  skipper  lost  his  temper  and  said 


-'CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  211 

things.  Instantly  fishing  was  suspended  to 
answer  h'lm,  and  he  heard  many  curious  facts 
about  his  boat  and  her  next  port  of  call.  They 
asked  him  if  he  were  insured  ;  and  whence  he 
had  stolen  his  anchor,  because,  they  said,  it 
belonged  to  the  Carrie  Pitman;  they  called 
his  boat  a  mud-scow,  and  accused  him  of 
dumping  garbage  to  frighten  the  fish ;  they 
offered  to  tow  him  and  charge  it  to  his  wife ; 
and  one  audacious  youth  slipped  almost  under 
the  counter,  smacked  it  with  his  open  palm, 
and  yelled  :    "  Gid  up,  Buck  !  " 

The  cook  emptied  a  pan  of  ashes  on  him, 
and  he  replied  with  cod-heads.  The  bark's 
crew  fired  small  coal  from  the  galley,  and  the 
dories  threatened  to  come  aboard  and  "razee"' 
her.  They  would  have  warned  her  at  once 
had  she  been  in  real  peril ;  but,  seeing  her 
well  clear  of  the  Virgin,  they  made  the  most 
of  their  chances.  The  fun  was  spoilt  when 
the  rock  spoke  again,  a  half-mile  to  windward, 
and  the  tormented  bark  set  everything  that 
would  draw  and  went  her  ways  ;  but  the  dories 
felt  that  the  honors  lay  with  them. 

All  that  night  the  Virgin  roared  hoarsely ; 
and  next  morning,  over  an  angry,  white- 
headed  sea,  Harvey  saw  the  Fleet  with  flicker- 


212  "CAPTAINS    COURAGEOUS" 

ing  masts  waiting  for  a  lead.  Not  a  dory  was 
hove  out  till  ten  o'clock,  when  the  two  Jeraulds 
of  the  Days  Eye,  imagining  a  lull  which  did 
not  exist,  set  the  example.  In  a  minute  half 
the  boats  were  out  and  bobbing  in  the  cockly 
swells,  but  Troop  kept  the  We  're  Heres  at 
work  dressing  down.  He  saw  no  sense  in 
**  dares  " ;  and  as  the  storm  grew  that  even- 
ing they  had  the  pleasure  of  receiving  wet 
strangers  only  too  glad  to  make  any  refuge 
in  the  gale.  The  boys  stood  by  the  dory- 
tackles  with  lanterns,  the  men  ready  to  haul, 
one  eye  cocked  for  the  sweeping  wave  that 
would  make  them  drop  everything  and  hold 
on  for  the  dear  life.  Out  of  the  dark  would 
come  a  yell  of  "  Dory,  dory  !  "  They  would 
hook  up  and  haul  in  a  drenched  man  and  a 
half-sunk  boat,  till  their  decks  were  littered 
down  with  nests  of  dories  and  the  bunks  were 
full.  Five  times  in  their  watch  did  Harvey, 
with  Dan,  jump  at  the  fore-gaff  where  it  lay 
lashed  on  the  boom,  and  cling  with  arms,  legs, 
and  teeth  to  rope  and  spar  and  sodden  canvas 
as  a  big  wave  filled  the  decks.  One  dory  was 
smashed  to  pieces,  and  the  sea  pitched  the 
man  head  first  on  to  the   decks,  cutting  his 


"CAPTAINS  COURAGEOUS"  213 

forehead  open  ;  and  about  dawn,  when  the 
racing  seas  gHmmered  white  all  along  their 
cold  edges,  another  man,  blue  and  ghastly, 
crawled  in  with  a  broken  hand,  asking  news 
of  his  brother.  Seven  extra  mouths  sat 
down  to  breakfast :  a  Swede ;  a  Chatham 
skipper;  a  boy  from  Hancock,  Maine;  one 
Duxbury,  and  three  Provincetown  men. 

There  was  a  general  sorting  out  among 
the  Fleet  next  day;  and  though  no  one  said 
anything,  all  ate  with  better  appetites  when 
boat  after  boat  reported  full  crews  aboard. 
Only  a  couple  of  Portuguese  and  an  old  man 
from  Gloucester  were  drowned,  but  many 
were  cut  or  bruised ;  and  two  schooners  had 
parted  their  tackle  and  been  blown  to  the 
southward,  three  days'  sail.  A  man  died  on 
a  Frenchman  —  it  was  the  same  bark  that 
had  traded  tobacco  with  the  We  're  Heres. 
She  slipped  away  quite  quietly  one  wet,  white 
morning,  moved  to  a  patch  of  deep  water, 
her  sails  all  hanging  anyhow,  and  Harvey 
saw  the  funeral  through  Disko's  spy-glass. 
It  was  only  an  oblong  bundle  slid  overside. 
They  did  not  seem  to  have  any  form  of  ser- 
vice, but    in    the    night,  at    anchor,   Harvey 


214  "CAPTALNS    COURAGEOUS" 

heard  them  across  the  star-powdered  black 
water,  singing  something  that  sounded  Hke 
a  hymn.     It  went  to  a  very  slow  tune. 

La  brigantine 
Qui  va  tourner, 
Roule  et  s'incline 
Pour  m'entrainer. 
Oh,  Vierge  Marie, 
Pour  moi  priez  Dieul 
Adieu,  patrie; 
Quebec,  adieu ! 

Tom  Piatt  visited  her,  because,  he  said,  the 
dead  man  was  his  brother  as  a  Freemason. 
It  came  out  that  a  wave  had  doubled  the 
poor  fellow  over  the  heel  of  the  bowsprit 
and  broken  his  back.  The  news  spread 
like  a  flash,  for,  contrary  to  general  custom, 
the  Frenchman  held  an  auction  of  the  dead 
man's  kit, —  he  had  no  friends  at  St.  Malo 
or  Miquelon, —  and  everything  was  spread 
out  on  the  top  of  the  house,  from  his  red 
knitted  cap  to  the  leather  belt  with  the 
sheath-knife  at  the  back.  Dan  and  Harvey 
were  out  on  twenty-fathom  water  in  the 
Hattie  S.,  and  naturally  rowed  over  to  join 
the  crowd.  It  was  a  long  pull,  and  they 
stayed    some    little    time  while    Dan    bought 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  215 

the  knife,  which  had  a  curious  brass  handle. 
When  they  dropped  overside  and  pushed 
off  into  a  drizzle  of  rain  and  a  lop  of  sea,  it 
occurred  to  them  that  they  might  get  into 
trouble  for  neglecting  the  lines. 

"  Guess  't  won't  hurt  us  any  to  be  warmed 
up,"  said  Dan,  shivering  under  his  oilskins, 
and  they  rowed  on  into  the  heart  of  a  white 
fog,  which,  as  usual,  dropped  on  them  with- 
out warning. 

"  There  's  too  much  blame  tide  hereabouts 
to  trust  to  your  instinks,"  he  said.  "  Heave 
over  the  anchor,  Harve,  and  we  '11  fish  a  piece 
till  the  thing  lifts.  Bend  on  your  biggest  lead. 
Three  pound  ain't  any  too  much  in  this  water. 
See  how  she 's  tightened  on  her  rodin'  already." 

There  was  quite  a  little  bubble  at  the  bows, 
where  some  irresponsible  Bank  current  held 
the  dory  full  stretch  on  her  rope ;  but  they 
could  not  see  a  boat's  length  in  any  direction. 
Harvey  turned  up  his  collar  and  bunched 
himself  over  his  reel  with  the  air  of  a  wearied 
navigator.  Fog  had  no  special  terrors  for 
him  now.  They  fished  awhile  in  silence,  and 
found  the  cod  struck  on  well.  Then  Dan 
drew  the  sheath-knife  and  tested  the  edge  of 
it  on  the  gunwale. 


2i6  "CAPTAINS    COURAGEOUS" 

"  That  *s  a  daisy,"  said  Harvey.  **  How 
did  you  get  it  so  cheap  ?  " 

"  On  account  o'  their  blame  Cath'Hc  super- 
stitions," said  Dan,  jabbing  with  the  bright 
blade.  "They  don't  fancy  takin'  iron  frum 
off  of  a  dead  man,  so  to  speak.  'See  them 
Arichat  Frenchmen  step  back  when  I  bid  ? " 

"  But  an  auction  ain't  taking  anything  off  a 
dead  man.     It  's  business." 

"  We  know  it  ain't,  but  there  's  no  goin'  in 
the  teeth  o'  superstition.  That  's  one  o'  the 
advantages  o'  livin'  in  a  progressive  country." 
And  Dan  began  whistling : 

"  Oh,  Double  Thatcher,  how  are  you  ? 
Now  Eastern  Point  comes  inter  view. 
The  girls  an'  boys  we  soon  shall  see, 
At  anchor  off  Cape  Ann !  " 

"  Why  did  n't  that  Eastport  man  bid,  then  ? 
He  bought  his  boots.  Ain't  Maine  pro- 
gressive ?  " 

"Maine?  Pshaw!  They  don't  know 
enough,  or  they  hain't  got  money  enough,  to 
paint  their  haouses  in  Maine.  I  've  seen  'em. 
The  Eastport  man  he  told  me  that  the  knife 
had  been  used  —  so  the  French  captain  told 
him — used  up  on  the  French  coast  last  year." 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  217 

"Cut  a  man?  Heave 's  the  muckle."  Har- 
vey hauled  in  his  fish,  rebaited,  and  threw 
over. 

"  Killed  him  !  Course,  when  I  heard  that  I 
was  keener  'n  ever  to  get  it." 

"  Christmas !  I  did  n't  know  it,"  said  Har- 
vey, turning  round.  '*  I  '11  give  you  a  dollar 
for  it  when  I  —  get  my  wages.  Say,  I  '11  give 
you  two  dollars." 

"Honest?  D'  you  like  it  as  much  as  all 
that?  "  said  Dan,  flushing.  "Well,  to  tell  the 
truth,  I  kinder  got  it  for  you  —  to  give ;  but  I 
did  n't  let  on  till  I  saw  how  you  'd  take  it. 
It 's  yours  and  welcome,  Harve,  because  we  're 
dory-mates,  and  so  on  and  so  forth,  an'  so 
followin'.     Catch  a-holt !  " 

He  held  it  out,  belt  and  all. 

"  But  look  at  here.     Dan,  I  don't  see — " 

"Take  it.  'T  ain't  no  use  to  me.  I  wish 
you  to  hev  it." 

The  temptation  was  irresistible.  "  Dan, 
you  're  a  white  man,"  said  Harvey.  "  I  '11 
keep  it  as  long  as  I  live." 

"That  's  good  hearin',"  said  Dan,  with  a 
pleasant  laugh ;  and  then,  anxious  to  change 
the  subject:  "  'Look  's  if  your  line  was  fast  to 
somethin'." 


2i8  "CAPTAINS    COURAGEOUS" 

"  Fouled,  I  guess,"  said  Harve,  tugging. 
Before  he  pulled  up  he  fastened  the  belt 
round  him,  and  with  deep  delight  heard  the 
tip  of  the  sheath  click  on  the  thwart.  "  Con- 
cern the  thing!"  he  cried.  "She  acts  as 
though  she  were  on  strawberry-bottom.  It 's 
all  sand  here,  ain't  it  ?  " 

Dan  reached  over  and  gave  a  judgmatic 
tweak.  "  Holibut  '11  act  that  way  'f  he  's 
sulky.  Thet  's  no  strawberry-bottom.  Yank 
her  once  or  twice.  She  gives,  sure.  Guess 
we  'd  better  haul  up  an'  make  certain." 

They  pulled  together,  making  fast  at  each 
turn  on  the  cleats,  and  the  hidden  weight  rose 
sluggishly. 

"  Prize,  oh  !  Haul !  "  shouted  Dan,  but  the 
shout  ended  in  a  shrill,  double  shriek  of  hor- 
ror, for  out  of  the  sea  came  —  the  body  of  the 
dead  Frenchman  buried  two  days  before  !  The 
hook  had  caught  him  under  the  right  armpit, 
and  he  swayed,  erect  and  horrible,  head  and 
shoulders  above  water.  His  arms  were  tied 
to  his  side,  and  —  he  had  no  face.  The  boys 
fell  over  each  other  in  a  heap  at  the  bottom  of 
the  dory,  and  there  they  lay  while  the  thing 
bobbed  alongside,  held  on  the  shortened  line. 

"The  tide-'— the  tide  brought  him!"  said 


"CAPTAINS    COURAGEOUS"  219 

Harvey  with  quivering  lips,  as  he  fumbled  at 
the  clasp  of  the  belt. 

"Oh,  Lord!  Oh,  Harve!"  groaned  Dan, 
"be  quick.  He  's  come  for  it.  Let  him  have 
it.     Take  it  off" 

"  I  don't  want  it !  /  don't  want  it !  "  cried 
Harvey.      "  I  can't  find  the  bu-buckle." 

"  Quick,  Harve  !      He  's  on  your  line  !  " 

Harvey  sat  up  to  unfasten  the  belt,  facing 
the  head  that  had  no  face  under  its  streaming 
hair.  "  He  's  fast  still,"  he  whispered  to  Dan, 
who  slipped  out  his  knife  and  cut  the  line,  as 
Harvey  flung  the  belt  far  overside.  The  body 
shot  down  with  a  plop,  and  Dan  cautiously 
rose  to  his  knees,  whiter  than  the  fog. 

"He  come  for  it.  He  come  for  it.  I  've 
seen  a  stale  one  hauled  up  on  a  trawl  and 
I  did  n't  much  care,  but  he  come  to  us  special." 

"I  wish  —  I  wish  I  had  n't  taken  the  knife. 
Then  he  'd  have  come  on  yoiu^  line." 

"  Dunno  as  thet  would  ha'  made  any  differ. 
We  Ve  both  scared  out  o'  ten  years'  growth. 
Oh,  Harve,  did  ye  see  his  head  ? " 

"  Did  I  ?  I  '11  never  foro^et  it.  But  look  at 
here,  Dan  ;  it  could  n't  have  been  meant.  It 
was  only  the  tide." 

"  Tide !      He    come    for    it,   Harve.     Why, 


220  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

they  sunk  him  six  mile  to  south'ard  o'  the 
Fleet,  an'  we  're  two  miles  from  where  she  's 
lyin'  now.  They  told  me  he  was  weighted 
with  a  fathom  an'  a  half  o'  chain-cable." 

"'Wonder  what  he  did  with  the  knife  —  up 
on  the  French  coast  ?  " 

"  Something  bad.  'Guess  he  's  bound  to 
take  it  with  him  to  the  Judgment,  an'  so  — 
What  are  you  doin'  with  the  fish  ?  " 

"  Heaving  'em  overboard,"  said  Harvey. 

"What  for?      We  sha'n't  eat  'em." 

"  I  don't  care.  I  had  to  look  at  his  face 
while  I  was  takin'  the  belt  off.  You  can 
keep  your  catch  if  you  like.  I  've  no  use  for 
mine." 

Dan  said  nothing,  but  threw  his  fish  over 
again. 

"  Guess  it  's  best  to  be  on  the  safe  side,"  he 
murmured  at  last.  "  I  'd  give  a  month's  pay 
if  this  fog  'u'd  lift.  Things  go  abaout  in  a  fog 
that  ye  don't  see  in  clear  weather  —  yo-hoes 
an'  hollerers  and  such  like.  I  'm  sorter  re- 
lieved he  come  the  way  he  did  instid  o'  walkin'. 
He  might  ha'  walked." 

"  Do-on't,  Dan!  We  're  right  on  top  of  him 
now.  'Wish  I  was  safe  aboard,  bein'  pounded 
by  Uncle  Salters." 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  221 

"They  '11  be  lookin'  fer  us  in  a  little.  Gimme 
the  tooter."  Dan  took  the  tin  dinner-horn, 
but  paused  before  he  blew. 

**  Go  on,"  said  Harvey.  "  I  don't  want  to 
stay  here  all  night." 

"  Question  is,  haow  he  'd  take  it.  There 
was  a  man  frum  down  the  coast  told  me  once 
he  was  in  a  schooner  where  they  darse  n't  ever 
blow  a  horn  to  the  dories,  becaze  the  skipper 
—  not  the  man  he  was  with,  but  a  captain 
that  had  run  her  five  years  before  —  he  'd 
drownded  a  boy  alongside  in  a  drunk  fit ;  an' 
ever  after,  that  boy  he  'd  row  alongside  too 
and  shout,  '  Dory  !  dory  ! '  with  the  rest." 

"  Dory !  dory ! "  a  muffled  voice  cried 
through  the  fog.  They  cowered  again,  and 
the  horn^  dropped  from   Dan's  hand. 

"Hold  on!"  cried  Harvey;  "it  's  the  cook." 

"  Dunno  what  made  me  think,  o'  thet  fool 
tale,  either,"  said  Dan.  "  It  's  the  doctor, 
sure  enough." 

"  Dan  !  Danny  !  Oooh,  Dan  !  Harve  ! 
Harvey  !     Oooh,  Haarveee  !  " 

"  We  're  here,"  sung  both  boys  together. 
They  heard  oars,  but  could  see  nothing  till 
the  cook,  shining  and  dripping,  rowed  into 
them. 


222  "CAPTAINS    COURAGEOUS" 

"What  iss  happened?"  said  he.  "You 
will  be  beaten  at  home." 

"  Thet  's  what  we  want.  Thet  's  what 
we  're  sufferin'  for,"  said  Dan.  ."  Anything 
homey  's  good  enough  fer  us.  We  've  had 
kinder  depressin'  company."  As  the  cook 
passed  them   a  line,  Dan   told   him  the  tale. 

"  Yess  !  He  come  for  hiss  knife,"  was  all 
he  said  at  the  end. 

Never  had  the  little  rocking  We  're  Here 
looked  so  deliciously  home-like  as  when  the 
cook,  born  and  bred  in  fogs,  rowed  them 
back  to  her.  There  was  a  warm  glow  of 
light  from  the  cabin  and  a  satisfying  smell 
of  food  forward,  and  it  was  heavenly  to 
hear  Disko  and  the  others,  all  quite  alive 
and  solid,  leaning  over  the  rail  and  promis- 
ing them  a  first-class  pounding.  But  the 
cook  was  a  black  master  of  strategy.  He 
did  not  get  the  dories  aboard  till  he  had 
given  the  more  striking  points  of  the  tale, 
explaining  as  he  backed  and  bumped  round 
the  counter  how  Harvey  was  the  mascot  to 
destroy  any  possible  bad  luck.  So  the  boys 
came  overside  as  rather  uncanny  heroes,  and 
every  one  asked  them  questions  instead  of 
pounding    them   for  making   trouble.     Little 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  223 

Penn  delivered  quite  a  speech  on  the  folly 
of  superstitions ;  but  public  opinion  was 
against  him  and  in  favor  of  Long  Jack, 
who  told  the  most  excruciating  ghost-stories 
till  nearly  midnight.  Under  that  influence 
no  one  except  Salters  and  Penn  said  any- 
thing about  "idolatry"  when  the  cook  put 
a  lighted  candle,  a  cake  of  flour  and  water, 
and  a  pinch  of  salt  on  a  shingle,  and  floated 
them  out  astern  to  keep  the  Frenchman 
quiet  in  case  he  was  still  restless.  Dan  lit 
the  candle  because  he  had  bought  the  belt, 
and  the  cook  o^runted  and  muttered  charms 
as  long  as  he  could  see  the  ducking  point 
of  flame. 

Said  Harvey  to  Dan,  as  they  turned 
in  after  watch :  "  How  about  progress  and 
Catholic  superstitions  ?  " 

"  Huh  !  I  or-uess  I  'm  as  enlig^htened  and 
progressive  as  the  next  man,  but  when  it 
comes  to  a  dead  St.  Malo  deck-hand  scarin'  a 
couple  o'  pore  boys  stiff  fer  the  sake  of 
a  thirty-cent  knife,  why,  then,  the  cook  can 
take  hold  fer  all  o'  me.  I  mistrust  furriners, 
livin'  or  dead." 

Next  morning  all,  except  the  cook,  were 
rather  ashamed  of  the  ceremonies,  and  went 


224  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

to  work  double  tides,  speaking  gruffly  to  one 
another. 

The  We  're  Here  was  racing  neck  and  neck 
for  her  last  few  loads  against  the  Parry  Nor- 
man ;  and  so  close  was  the  struggle  that  the 
fleet  took  sides  and  betted  tobacco.  All 
hands  worked  at  the  lines  or  dressing-down 
till  they  fell  asleep  where  they  stood  —  begin- 
ning before  dawn  and  ending  when  it  was  too 
dark  to  see.  They  even  used  the  cook  as 
pitcher,  and  turned  Harvey  into  the  hold  to 
pass  salt,  while  Dan  helped  to  dress  down. 
Luckily  a  Parry  Norman  man  sprained  his 
ankle  falling  down  the  foc'sle,  and  the  We  We 
Heres  gained.  Harvey  could  not  see  how 
one  more  fish  could  be  crammed  into  her,  but 
Disko  and  Tom  Piatt  stowed  and  stowed,  and 
planked  the  mass  down  with  big  stones  from 
the  ballast,  and  there  was  always  "jest  an- 
other day's  work."  Disko  did  not  tell  them 
when  all  the  salt  was  wetted.  He  rolled  to 
the  lazarette  aft  the  cabin  and  began  hauling 
out  the  big  mainsail.  This  was  at  ten  in  the 
morning.  The  riding-sail  was  down  and  the 
main-  and  topsail  were  up  by  noon,  and  dories 
came  alongside  with  letters  for  home,  envy- 
ing their  good  fortune.     At  last  she  cleared 


DRESSING  DOWN    ON   THE  "WE  'RE   HERE." 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  227 

decks,  hoisted  her  flag, —  as  is  the  right  of 
the  first  boat  off  the  Banks, —  up-anchored, 
and  began  to  move.  Disko  pretended  that 
he  wished  to  accommodate  folk  who  had  not 
sent  in  their  mail,  and  so  worked  her  grace- 
fully in  and  out  among  the  schooners.  In  re- 
ality, that  was  his  little  triumphant  procession, 
and  for  the  fifth  year  running  it  showed  what 
kind  of  mariner  he  was.  Dan's  accordion 
and  Tom  Piatt's  fiddle  supplied  the  music  of 
the  magic  verse  you  must  not  sing  till  all  the 
salt  is  wet : 

"  Hih  !     Yih  !     Yoho !     Send  your  letters  raound ! 
All  our  salt  is  wetted,  an'  the  anchor  's  off  the  graound ! 
Bend,  oh,  bend  your  mains'l,  we  're  back  to  Yankee- 
land— 

With  fifteen  hunder'  quintal, 
An'  fifteen  hunder'  quintal, 
'Teen  hunder'  toppin'  quintal, 
'Twix'  old  'Queereau  an'  Grand." 

The  last  letters  pitched  on  deck  wrapped 
round  pieces  of  coal,  and  the  Gloucester  men 
shouted  messapfes  to  their  wives  and  women- 
folk  and  owners,  while  the  We  're  Hej'e  fin- 
ished the  musical  ride  through  the  Fleet,  her 
headsails  quivering  like  a  man's  hand  when 
he  raises  it  to  say  good-by. 


228  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

Harvey  very  soon  discovered  that  the 
We  're  Here,  with  her  riding-sail,  strolHng 
from  berth  to  berth,  and  the  We  're  Here 
headed  west  by  south  under  home  canvas, 
were  two  very  different  boats.  There  was  a 
bite  and  kick  to  the  wheel  even  in  "  boy's " 
weather ;  he  could  feel  the  dead  weight  in  the 
hold  flung  forward  mightily  across  the  surges, 
and  the  streaming  line  of  bubbles  overside 
made  his  eyes  dizzy. 

Disko  kept  them  busy  fiddling  with  the 
sails ;  and  when  those  were  flattened  like  a 
racing  yacht's,  Dan  had  to  wait  on  the  big 
topsail,  which  was  put  over  by  hand  every 
time  she  went  about.  In  spare  moments  they 
pumped,  for  the  packed  fish  dripped  brine, 
which  does  not  improve  a  cargo.  But  since 
there  was  no  fishing,  Harvey  had  time  to  look 
at  the  sea  from  another  point  of  view.  The 
low-sided  schooner  was  naturally  on  most  in- 
timate terms  with  her  surroundings.  They 
saw  little  of  the  horizon  save  when  she  topped 
a  swell ;  and  usually  she  was  elbowing,  fidget- 
ing, and  coaxing  her  steadfast  way  through 
gray,  gray-blue,  or  black  hollows  laced  across 
and  across  with  streaks  of  shivering  foam  ;  or 
rubbing  herself  caressingly  along  the  flank  of 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  229 

some  bigger  water-hill.  It  was  as  if  she  said: 
"You  would  n't  hurt  me,  surely?  I  'm  only 
the  little  We  're  Here''  Then  she  would  slide 
away  chuckling  softly  to  herself  till  she  was 
brought  up  by  some  fresh  obstacle.  The 
dullest  of  folk  cannot  see  this  kind  of  thingr 
hour  after  hour  through  long  days  without 
noticing  it ;  and  Harvey,  being  anything  but 
dull,  began  to  comprehend  and  enjoy  the  dry 
chorus  of  wave-tops  turning  over  with  a  sound 
of  incessant  tearing ;  the  hurry  of  the  winds 
working  across  open  spaces  and  herding  the 
purple-blue  cloud-shadows ;  the  splendid  up- 
heaval of  the  red  sunrise ;  the  folding  and 
packing  away  of  the  morning  mists,  wall  after 
wall  withdrawn  across  the  white  floors ;  the 
salty  glare  and  blaze  of  noon  ;  the  kiss  of 
rain  falling  over  thousands  of  dead,  flat  square 
miles ;  the  chilly  blacke^iing  of  everything  at 
the  day's  end ;  and  the  million  wrinkles  of  the 
sea  under  the  moonlight,  when  the  jib-boom 
solemnly  poked  at  the  low  stars,  and  Harvey 
went  down  to  get  a  doughnut  from  the  cook. 
But  the  best  fun  was  when  the  boys  were 
put  on  the  wheel  together,  Tom  Piatt  within 
hail,  and  she  cuddled  her  lee-rail  down  to  the 

crashing  blue,   and   kept  a  little   home-made 
16 


230  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

rainbow  arching  unbroken  over"  her  wind- 
lass. Then  the  jaws  of  the  booms  whined 
against  the  masts,  and  the  sheets  creaked, 
and  the  sails  filled  with  roaring ;  and  when 
she  slid  into  a  hollow  she  trampled  like  a  wo- 
man  tripped  in  her  own  silk  dress,  and  came 
out,  her  jib  wet  half-way  up,  yearning  and 
peering  for  the  tall  twin-lights  of  Thatcher's 
Island. 

They  left  the  cold  gray  of  the  Bank  sea, 
saw  the  lumber-ships  making  for  Quebec  by 
the  Straits  of  St.  Lawrence,  with  the  Jersey 
salt-brigs  from  Spain  and  Sicily ;  found  a 
friendly  northeaster  off  Artimon  Bank  that 
drove  them  within  view  of  the  East  light  of 
Sable  Island, —  a  sight  Disko  did  not  linger 
over, —  and  stayed  with  them  past  Western 
and  Le  Have,  to  the  northern  fringe  of 
George's.  From  there  they  picked  up  the 
deeper  water,  and  let  her  go  merrily. 

"  Hattie  's  pulling  on  the  string,"  Dan  con- 
fided to  Harvey.  "  Hattie  an'  ma.  Next 
Sunday  you  '11  be  hirin'  a  boy  to  throw  water 
on  the  windows  to  make  ye  go  to  sleep. 
'Guess  you  '11  keep  with  us  till  your  folks 
come.  Do  you  know  the  best  of  gettin* 
ashore  again  ?  " 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  231 

"Hot  bath?"  said  Harvey.  His  eyebrows 
were  all  white  with  dried  spray. 

"That's  good,  but  a  night-shirt's  better. 
I  've  been  dreamin'  o'  night-shirts  ever  since 
we  bent  our  mainsail.  Ye  can  wiggle  your 
toes  then.  Ma  '11  hev  a  new  one  fer  me,  all 
washed  soft.  It 's  home,  Harve.  It  's  home  ! 
Ye  can  sense  it  in  the  air.  We  're  runnin' 
into  the  aidge  of  a  hot  wave  naow,  an'  I  can 
smell  the  bayberries.  Wonder  if  we  '11  get 
in  fer  supper.     Port  a  trifle." 

The  hesitating  sails  flapped  and  lurched  in 
the  close  air  as  the  deep  smoothed  out,  blue 
and  oily,  round  them.  When  they  whistled 
for  a  wind  only  the  rain  came  in  spiky  rods, 
bubbling  and  drumming,  and  behind  the  rain 
the  thunder  and  the  lightning  of  mid-August. 
They  lay  on  the  deck  with  bare  feet  and  arms, 
telling  one  another  what  they  would  order  at 
their  first  meal  ashore ;  for  now  the  land  was 
in  plain  sight.  A  Gloucester  swordfish-boat 
drifted  alongside,  a  man  in  the  little  pulpit  on 
the  bowsprit  flourishing  his  harpoon,  his  bare 
head  plastered  down  with  the  wet.  "And  all 's 
well !  "  he  sang  cheerily,  as  though  he  were 
watch  on  a  bio-  liner.  "  Wouverman  's  waitino; 
fer  you,  Disko.    What 's  the  news  o'  the  Fleet?" 


232  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS '» 

Disko  shouted  it  and  passed  on,  while  the 
wild  summer  storm  pounded  overhead  and 
the  lightning  flickered  along  the  capes  from 
four  different  quarters  at  once.  It  gave  the 
low  circle  of  hills  round  Gloucester  Harbor, 
Ten  Pound  Island,  the  fish-sheds,  with  the 
broken  line  of  house-roofs,  and  each  spar  and 
buoy  on  the  water,  in  blinding  photographs 
that  came  and  went  a  ^ozen  times  to  the 
minute  as  the  We  're  Here  crawled  in  on  half- 
flood,  and  the  whistling-buoy  moaned  and 
mourned  behind  her.  Then  the  storm  died 
out  in  long,  separated,  vicious  dags  of  blue- 
white  flame,  followed  by  a  single  roar  like 
the  roar  of  a  mortar-battery,  and  the  shaken 
air  tingled  under  the  stars  as  it  got  back  to 
silence. 

"The  flag,  the  flag!"  said  Disko,  suddenly, 
pointing  upward. 

"  What  is  ut  ?  "  said  Long  Jack. 

"Otto !  Ha'af  mast.  They  can  see  us 
frum  shore  now." 

**  I  'd  clean  forgot.  He  *s  no  folk  to  Glou- 
cester, has  he  ?  " 

**  Girl  he  was  goin'  to  be  married  to  this 
fall." 

"Mary   pity  her!"  said   Long   Jack,    and 


"DORIES  CAME  ALONGSIDE  WITH  LETTERS   FOR  HOME. 


"CAPTAINS    COURAGEOUS"  235 

lowered  the  little  flag  half-mast  for  the  sake 
of  Otto,  swept  overboard  in  a  gale  off  Le 
Have  three  months  before. 

Disko  wiped  the  wet  from  his  eyes  and  led 
the  We  *re  Here  to  Wouverman's  wharf,  giv- 
ing his  orders  in  whispers,  while  she  swung 
round  moored  tugs  and  night-watchmen 
hailed  her  from  the  ends  of  inky-black  piers. 
Over  and  above  the  darkness  and  the  mys- 
tery of  the  procession,  Harvey  could  feel  the 
land  close  round  him  once  more,  with  all  its 
thousands  of  people  asleep,  and  the  smell  of 
earth  after  rain,  and  the  familiar  noise  of 
a  switching-engine  coughing  to  herself  in  a 
freight-yard ;  and  all  those  things  made  his 
heart  beat  and  his  throat  dry  up  as  he  stood 
by  the  foresheet.  They  heard  the  anchor- 
watch  snoring  on  a  lighthouse-tug,  nosed 
into  a  pocket  of  darkness  where  a  lantern 
glimmered  on  either  side ;  somebody  waked 
with  a  grunt,  threw  them  a  rope,  and  they 
made  fast  to  a  silent  wharf  flanked  with  great 
iron-roofed  sheds  full  of  warm  emptiness,  and 
lay  there  without  a  sound. 

Then  Harvey  sat  down  by  the  wheel,  and 
sobbed  and  sobbed  as  though  his  heart  would 
break,  and  a  tall  woman  who  had  been  sit- 


236  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

ting  on  a  weigh-scale  dropped  down  into 
the  schooner  and  kissed  Dan  once  on  the 
cheek ;  for  she  was  his  mother,  and  she  had 
seen  the  We  're  Here  by  the  lightning  flashes. 
She  took  no  notice  of  Harvey  till  he  had  re- 
covered himself  a  little  and  Disko  had  told 
her  his  story.  Then  they  went  to  Disko's 
house  together  as  the  dawn  was  breaking ; 
and  until  the  telegraph  office  was  open  and 
he  could  wire  to  his  folk,  Harvey  Cheyne  was 
perhaps  the  loneliest  boy  in  all  America.  But 
the  curious  thing  was  that  Disko  and  Dan 
seemed  to  think  none  the  worse  of  him  for 
crying. 

Wouverman  was  not  ready  for  Disko's 
prices  till  Disko,  sure  that  the  We  We  Here 
was  at  least  a  week  ahead  of  any  other  Glou- 
cester boat,  had  given  him  a  few  days  to 
swallow  them ;  so  all  hands  played  about  the 
streets,  and  Long  Jack  stopped  the  Rocky 
Neck  trolley,  on  principle,  as  he  said,  till  the 
conductor  let  him  ride  free.  But  Dan  went 
about  with  his  freckled  nose  in  the  air,  bung- 
full  of  mystery  and  most  haughty  to  his 
family. 

"  Dan,  I  '11  hev  to  lay  inter  you  ef  you  act 
this   way,"  said  Troop,    pensively.       "  Sence 


"CAPTAINS  COURAGEOUS"  237 

we  've  come  ashore  this  time  you  Ve  bin  a 
heap  too  fresh." 

"  I  'd  lay  into  him  naow  ef  he  was  mine," 
said  Uncle  Salters,  sourly.  He  and  Penn 
boarded  with  the  Troops. 

"  Oho  !  "  said  Dan,  shuffling  with  the  accor- 
dion round  the  back-yard,  ready  to  leap  the 
fence  if  the  enemy  advanced.  "  Dad,  you  're 
welcome  to  your  own  jedgment,  but  remem- 
ber I  've  warned  ye.  Your  own  flesh  an' 
blood  ha'  warned  ye!  'T  ain't  any  o'  viy 
fault  ef  you  're  mistook,  but  I  '11  be  on  deck 
to  watch  ye.  An'  ez  fer  yeou,  Uncle  Salters, 
Pharaoh's  chief  butler  ain't  in  it  'longside  o' 
you  !  You  watch  aout  an'  wait.  You  '11  be 
plowed  under  like  your  own  blamed  clover; 
but  me  —  Dan  Troop — I  '11  flourish  like  a 
green  bay-tree  because  /  war  n't  stuck  on  my 
own  opinion." 

Disko  was  smoking  in  all  his  shore  dig- 
nity and  a  pair  of  beautiful  carpet-slippers. 
"You  're  gettin'  ez  crazy  as  poor  Harve. 
You  two  go  araound  gigglin'  an'  squinchin' 
an'  kickin'  each  other  under  the  table  till 
there  *s  no  peace  in  the  haouse,"  said  he. 

"  There 's  goin'  to  be  a  heap  less — fer  some 
folks,"  Dan  replied.     **  You  wait  an'  see." 


238  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

He  and  Harvey  went  out  on  the  trolley  to 
East  Gloucester,  where  they  tramped  through 
the  bayberry  bushes  to  the  lighthouse,  and 
lay  down  on  the  big  red  boulders  and  laughed 
themselves  hungry.  Harvey  had  shown  Dan 
a  telegram,  and  the  two  swore  to  keep  silence 
till  the  shell  burst. 

"Harve's  folk?"  said  Dan,  with  an  unruffled 
face  after  supper.  "  Well,  I  guess  they  don't 
amount  to  much  of  anything,  or  we  'd  ha' 
heard  frum  'em  by  naow.  His  pop  keeps  a 
kind  o'  store  out  West.  Maybe  he  '11  give 
you  's  much  as  five  dollars,  dad." 

"What  did  I  tell  ye?  "  said  Salters.  "  Don't 
sputter  over  your  vittles,  Dan." 


CHAPTER   IX 

WHATEVER  his  private  sorrows  maybe, 
a  multimillionaire,  like  any  other  work- 
ingman,  should  keep  abreast  of  his  business. 
Harvey  Cheyne,  senior,  had  gone  East  late 
in  June  to  meet  a  woman  broken  down,  half 
mad,  who  dreamed  day  and  night  of  her  son 
drowning  in  the  gray  seas.  He  had  sur- 
rounded her  with  doctors,  trained  nurses, 
massage-women,  and  even  faith-cure  com- 
panions, but  they  were  useless.  Mrs.  Cheyne 
lay  still  and  moaned,  or  talked  of  her  boy  by 
the  hour  together  to  any  one  who  would 
listen.  Hope  she  had  none,  and  who  could 
offer  it  ?  All  she  needed  was  assurance  that 
drowning  did  not  hurt ;  and  her  husband 
watched  to  guard  lest  she  should  make  the 
experiment.  Of  his  own  sorrow  he  spoke 
little  —  hardly  realized  the  depth  of  it  till  he 
caught  himself  asking  the  calendar  on  his 
writing-desk,  "What 's  the  use  of  going  on  ?  " 

239 


240  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

There  had  always  lain  a  pleasant  notion  at 
the  back  of  his  head  that,  some  day,  when  he 
had  rounded  off  everything  and  the  boy  had 
left  college,  he  would  take  his  son  to  his  heart 
and  lead  him, into  his  possessions.  Then  that 
boy,  he  argued,  as  busy  fathers  do,  would  in- 
stantly become  his  companion,  partner,  and 
ally,  and  there  would  follow  splendid  years 
of  great  works  carried  out  together  —  the  old 
head  backing  the  young  fire.  Now  his  boy 
was  dead  —  lost  at  sea,  as  it  might  have  been 
a  Swede  sailor  from  one  of  Cheyne's  big  tea- 
ships  ;  the  wife  was  dying,  or  worse ;  he  him- 
self was  trodden  down  by  platoons  of  women 
and  doctors  and  maids  and  attendants ;  wor- 
ried almost  beyond  endurance  by  the  shift 
and  change  of  her  poor  restless  whimsj  hope- 
less, with  no  heart  to  meet  his  many  enemies. 

He  had  taken  the  wife  to  his  raw  new  pal- 
ace in  San  Diego,  where  she  and  her  people 
occupied  a  wing  of  great  price,  and  Cheyne, 
in  a  veranda-room,  between  a  secretary  and 
a  typewriter,  who  was  also  a  telegraphist, 
toiled  along  wearily  from  day  to  day.  There 
was  a  war  of  rates  among  four  Western  rail- 
roads in  which  he  was  supposed  to  be  inter- 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  241 

ested ;  a  devastating  strike  had  developed  in 
his  lumber-camps  in  Oregon,  and  the  legisla- 
ture of  the  State  of  California',  which  has  no 
love  for  its  makers,  was  preparing  open  war 
against  him. 

Ordinarily  he  would  have  accepted  battle 
ere  it  was  offered,  and  have  waged  a  pleasant 
and  unscrupulous  campaign.  But  now  he  sat 
limply,  his  soft  black  hat  pushed  forward  on 
to  his  nose,  his  big  body  shrunk  inside  his 
loose  clothes,  staring  at  his  boots  or  the  Chi- 
nese junks  in  the  bay,  and  assenting  absently 
to  the  secretary's  questions  as  he  opened  the 
Saturday  mail. 

Cheyne  was  wondering  how  much  it  would 
cost  to  drop  everything  and  pull  out.  He 
carried  huge  insurances,  could  buy  himself 
royal  annuities,  and  between  one  of  his  places 
in  Colorado  and  a  little  society  (that  would 
do  the  wife  good),  say  in  Washington  and 
the  South  Carolina  islands,  a  man  might  for- 
get plans  that  had  come  to  nothing.  On  the 
other  hand  .  .  . 

The  click  of  the  typewriter  stopped ;  the 
girl  was  looking  at  the  secretary,  who  had 
turned  white. 


242  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS »' 

He  passed  Cheyne  a  telegram  repeated 
from  San   Francisco: 

Picked  tip  by  fishing  schooner  We  're  He7X 
haviitg  fallen  off  boat  great  times  on  Banks 
fishing  all  well  waiting  Gloucester  Mass  care 
Disko  Troop  for  money  or  orders  wire  what 
shall  do  and  how  is  mama  Harvey  N, 
Cheyne. 

The  father  let  it  fall,  laid  his  head  down  on 
the  roller-top  of  the  shut  desk,  and  breathed 
heavily.  The  secretary  ran  for  Mrs.  Cheyne's 
doctor,  who  found  Cheyne  pacing  to  and  fro. 

"What  —  what  d'  you  think  of  it?  Is  it 
possible?  Is  there  any  meaning  to  it?  I 
can't  quite  make  it  out,"  he  cried. 

"  I  can,"  said  the  doctor.  *'  I  lose  seven 
thousand  a  year  —  that's  all,"  He  thought 
of  the  struggling  New  York  practice  he  had 
dropped  at  Cheyne's  imperious  bidding,  and 
returned  the  teleo^ram  with  a  sio^h. 

"You  mean  you  'd  tell  her?  'May  be  a 
fraud?" 

"What  's  the  motive?"  said  the  doctor, 
coolly,  "  Detection  's  too  certain.  It  's  the 
boy  sure  enough." 


"CAPTAINS    COURAGEOUS"  243 

Enter  a  French  maid,  impudently,  as  an  in- 
dispensable one  who  is  kept  on  only  by  large 
wages. 

**  Mrs.  Cheyne  she  say  you  must  come  at 
once.     She  think  you  are  seek." 

The  master  of  thirty  millions  bowed  his 
head  meekly  and  followed  Suzanne ;  and  a 
thin,  high  voice  on  the  upper  landing  of  the 
great  white-wood  square  staircase  cried: 
♦'What  is  it?     What  has  happened?" 

No  doors  could  keep  out  the  shriek  that 
rang  through  the  echoing  house  a  moment 
later,  when  her  husband  blurted  out  the  news. 

**  And  that 's  all  right,"  said  the  doctor,  se- 
renely, to  the  typewriter.  "  About  the  only 
medical  statement  in  novels  with  any  truth  to 
it  is  that  joy  don't  kill.  Miss  Kinzey." 

"  I  know  it;  but  we  've  a  heap  to  do  first." 
Miss  Kinzey  was  from  Milwaukee,  somewhat 
direct  of  speech  ;  and  as  her  fancy  leaned  to- 
wards the  secretary,  she  divined  there  was 
work  in  hand.  He  was  looking  earnestly  at 
the  vast  roller- map  of  America  on  the  wall. 

*'  Milsom,  we  're  going  right  across.  Pri- 
vate car  —  straight  through  —  Boston.  Fix 
the  connections,"  shouted  Cheyne  down  the 
staircase. 


244  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

•♦  I  thought  SO." 

The  secretary  turned  to  the  typewriter,  and 
their  eyes  met  (out  of  that  was  born  a  story 
—  nothing  to  do  with  this  story).  She  looked 
inquiringly,  doubtful  of  his  resources.  He 
signed  to  her  to  move  to  the  Morse  as  a  gen- 
eral brings  brigades  into  action.  Then  he 
swept  his  hand  musician-wise  through  his 
hair,  regarded  the  ceiling,  and  set  to  work, 
while  Miss  Kinzey's  white  fingers  called  up 
the  Continent  of  America. 

'' K.  H.  Wade,  Los  Angeles —  The  'Con- 
stance '  is  at  Los  Angeles,  is  n't  she.  Miss 
Kinzey  ?  " 

"Yep."  Miss  Kinzey  nodded  between  clicks 
as  the  secretary  looked  at  his  watch. 

"Ready?  Send  'Constance'  private  car, 
here,  and  arrange  for  special  to  leave  here 
Sunday  ijt  time  to  connect  with  New  York 
Lhnited  at  Sixteenth  Street,  Chicago^  Tues- 
day next'' 

Click — click — click  !  "  Could  n't  you  bet- 
ter that  ?  " 

"  Not  on  those  grades.  That  gives  'em 
sixty  hours  from  here  to  Chicago.  They 
won't  gain  anything  by  taking  a  special  east 
of  that.     Ready?     Also  arrange  with  Lake 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  245 

Shore  and  Michigan  Southern  to  take  '  Con- 
stance' on  New  York  Central  and  Hudson 
River  Buffalo  to  Albany,  and  B.  and  A.  the 
same  A  Ibany  to  Boston.  Indispensable  I  should 
reach  Boston  Wednesday  evening.  Be  sure 
nothing  prevents.  Have  also  wired  Canniff, 
Toucey,  and  Barnes. —  Sign,  Cheyne." 

Miss  Kinzey  nodded,  and  the  secretary 
went  on, 

"  Now  then.  Canniff,  Toucey,  and  Barnes, 
of  course.  Ready  ?  Canniff^  Chicago.  Please 
take  my  private  car  '  Constance  '  fro7n  Sa?ita 
Fe  at  Sixteenth  Street  next  Tuesday  p.  m.  on 
N.  Y.  Limited  through  to  Buffalo  and  deliver 
N.  Y.  Cfor  Albany. —  Ever  bin  to  N'  York, 
Miss  Kinzey?  We'll  go  some  day. —  Ready? 
Take  car  Buffalo  to  Albany  on  Limited  Tues- 
day p.  m.     That  's  for  Toucey." 

"  Have  n't  bin  to  Noo  York,  but  I  know 
that !  "  with  a  toss  of  the  head. 

"  Beg  pardon.  Now,  Boston  and  Albany, 
Barnes,  same  instructions  from  Albany 
through  to  Boston.  Leave  three-five  p.  m. 
(you  need  n't  wire  that)  ;  arrive  nine-five  p.  m. 
Wednesday.  That  covers  everything  Wade 
will  do,  but  it  pays  to  shake  up  the  man- 
agers." 


246  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

"  It's  great,"  said  Miss  Kinzey,  with  a  look 
of  admiration.  This  was  the  kind  of  man  she 
understood  and  appreciated. 

"  'T  is  n't  bad,"  said  Milsom,  modestly. 
**  Now,  any  one  but  me  would  have  lost  thirty 
hours  and  spent  a  week  working  out  the  run, 
instead  of  handing  him  over  to  the  Sante  Fe 
straight  through  to  Chicago." 

"  But  see  here,  about  that  Noo  York  Lim- 
ited. Chauncey  Depew  himself  could  n't 
hitch  his  car  to  her,''  Miss  Kinzey  suggested, 
recovering  herself 

"  Yes,  but  this  is  n't  Chauncey.    It 's  Cheyne 

—  liofhtnino-.      It  oroes." 

o  o  o 

"  Even  so.  Guess  we  'd  better  wire  the 
boy.     You  've  forgotten  that,  anyhow." 

"  I  '11  ask." 

When  he  returned  with  the  father's  mes- 
sage bidding  Harvey  meet  them  in  Boston 
at  an  appointed  hour,  he  found  Miss  Kin- 
zey laughing  over  the  keys.  Then  Milsom 
laughed  too,  for  the  frantic  clicks  from  Los 
Angeles  ran :   "  We  want  to  know  why — why 

—  why?     General  uneasiness  developed  and 
spreading^ 

Ten  minutes  later  Chicago  appealed  to 
Miss  Kinzey  in  these  words:  '^I/crmie  of  cen- 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  249 

iury  is  maturing  please  warn  friends  in  time. 
We  are  all  getting  to  cover  here.'' 

This  was  capped  by  a  message  from  To- 
peka  (and  wherein  Topeka  was  concerned 
even  Milsom  could  not  guess):  '^  Don  t  shoot, 
Colonel.      We  ' II  come  down.'' 

Cheyne  smiled  grimly  at  the  consternation 
of  his  enemies  when  the  telegrams  were  laid 
before  him.  "  They  think  we  're  on  the  war- 
path. Tell  'em  we  don't  feel  like  fighting  just 
now,  Milsom.  Tell  'em  what  we  're  going 
for.  I  guess  you  and  Miss  Kinzey  had  better 
come  along,  though  it  is  n't  likely  I  shall  do 
any  business  on  the  road.  Tell  'em  the  truth 
—  for  once." 

So  the  truth  was  told.  Miss  Kinzey  clicked 
in  the  sentiment  while  the  secretary  added  the 
memorable  quotation,  "  Let  us  have  peace," 
and  in  board-rooms  two  thousand  miles  away 
the  representatives  of  sixty-three  million  dol- 
lars' worth  of  variously  manipulated  railroad 
interests  breathed  more  freely.  Cheyne  was 
flying  to  meet  the  only  son,  so  miraculously 
restored  to  him.  The  bear  was  seeking  his 
cub,  not  the  bulls.  Hard  men  who  had  their 
knives  drawn  to  fight  for  their  financial  lives 
put  away  the  weapons  and  wished  him  God- 


250  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

speed,  while  half  a  dozen  panic-smitten  tin-pot 
roads  perked  up  their  heads  and  spoke  of 
the  wonderful  things  they  would  have  done 
had  not  Cheyne  buried  the  hatchet. 

It  was  a  busy  week-end  among  the  wires ; 
for,  now  that  their  anxiety  was  removed,  men 
and  cities  hastened  to  accommodate.  Los 
Angeles  called  to  San  Diego  and  Barstow 
that  the  Southern  California  engineers  might 
know  and  be  ready  in  their  lonely  round- 
houses ;  Barstow  passed  the  word  to  the 
Atlantic  and  Pacific  ;  and  Albuquerque  flung 
it  the  whole  length  of  the  Atchison,  Topeka, 
and  Santa  Fe  management,  even  into  Chicago. 
An  engine,  combination-car  with  crew,  and  the 
great  and  gilded  "Constance"  private  car 
were  to  be  "  expedited  "  over  those  two  thou- 
sand three  hundred  and  fifty  miles.  The  train 
would  take  precedence  of  one  hundred  and 
seventy-seven  others  meeting  and  passing ; 
despatchers  and  crews  of  every  one  of  those 
said  trains  must  be  notified.  Sixteen  loco- 
motives, sixteen  engineers,  and  sixteen  fire- 
men would  be  needed  —  each  and  every  one 
the  best  available.  Two  and  one  half  minutes 
would  be  allowed  for  changing  engines,  three 
for  watering,  and  two  for  coaling.    "  Warn  the 


"CAPTAINS    COURAGEOUS"  251 

men,  and  arrange  tanks  and  chutes  accord- 
ingly ;  for  Harvey  Cheyne  is  in  a  hurry,  a 
hurry  —  a  hurry,"  sang  the  wires.  "Forty 
miles  an  hour  will  be  expected,  and  division 
superintendents  will  accompany  this  special 
over  their  respective  divisions.  From  San 
Diego  to  Sixteenth  Street,  Chicago,  let  the 
magic  carpet  be  laid  down.  Hurry  !  oh, 
hurry ! " 

"  It  will  be  hot,"  said  Cheyne,  as  they  rolled 
out  of  San  Diego  in  the  dawn  of  Sunday. 
"  We  're  going  to  hurry,  mama,  just  as  fast  as 
ever  we  can ;  but  I  really  don't  think  there  's 
any  good  of  your  putting  on  your  bonnet  and 
gloves  yet.  You  'd  much  better  lie  down  and 
take  your  medicine.  I  'd  play  you  a  game  o' 
dominoes,  but  it  's  Sunday." 

"  I  '11  be  good.  Oh,  I  will  be  good.  Only 
—  taking  off  my  bonnet  makes  me  feel  as  if 
we  'd  never  get  there." 

*'  Try  to  sleep  a  little,  mama,  and  we  '11  be 
in  Chicago  before  you  know." 

"  But  it  's  Boston,  father.  Tell  them  to 
hurry." 

The  six-foot  drivers  were  hammering  their 
way  to  San  Bernardino  and  the  Mohave 
wastes,    but    this    was    no    grade    for    speed. 


252  "CAPTAINS    COURAGEOUS" 

That  would  come  later.  The  heat  of  the 
desert  followed  the  heat  of  the  hills  as  they 
turned  east  to  the  Needles  and  the  Colorado 
River.  The  car  cracked  in  the  utter  drouth 
and  glare,  and  they  put  crushed  ice  to  Mrs. 
Cheyne's  neck,  and  toiled  up  the  long,  long 
grades,  past  Ash  Fork,  towards  Flagstaff, 
where  the  forests  and  quarries  are,  under  the 
dry,  remote  skies.  The  needle  of  the  speed- 
indicator  flicked  and  wao-aed  to  and  fro ;  the 
cinders  rattled  on  the  roof,  and  a  whirl  of  dust 
sucked  after  the  whirling  wheels.  The  crew 
of  the  combination  sat  on  their  bunks,  pant- 
ing in  their  shirt-sleeves,  and  Cheyne  found 
himself  among  them  shouting  old,  old  stories 
of  the  railroad  that  every  trainman  knows, 
above  the  roar  of  the  car.  He  told  them 
about  his  son,  and  how  the  sea  had  given  up 
its  dead,  and  they  nodded  and  spat  and  re- 
joiced with  him ;  asked  after  "  her,  back 
there,"  and  whether  she  could  stand  it  if  the 
engineer  "  let  her  out  a  piece,"  and  Cheyne 
thought  she  could.  Accordingly,  the  great 
fire-horse  was  "let  out"  from  Flaestaff  to 
Winslow,  till  a  division  superintendent  pro- 
tested. 

But   Mrs.    Cheyne,    in    the    boudoir  state 


"CAPTAINS  COURAGEOUS"  253 

room,  where  the  French  maid,  sallow-white 
with  fear,  clung  to  the  silver  door-handle, 
only  moaned  a  little  and  begged  her  husband 
to  bid  them  "  hurry."  And  so  they  dropped 
the  dry  sands  and  moon-struck  rocks  of  Ari- 
zona behind  them,  and  grilled  on  till  the  crash 
of  the  couplings  and  the  wheeze  of  the  brake- 
hose  told  them  they  were  at  Coolidge  by  the 
Continental  Divide. 

Three  bold  and  experienced  men  —  cool, 
confident,  and  dry  when  they  began  ;  white, 
quivering,  and  wet  when  they  finished  their 
trick  at  those  terrible  wheels  —  swung  her 
over  the  great  lift  from  Albuquerque  to  Glo- 
rietta  and  beyond  Springer,  up  and  up  to  the 
Raton  Tunnel  on  the  State  line,  whence  they 
dropped  rocking  into  La  Junta,  had  sight  of 
the  Arkansaw,  and  tore  down  the  long  slope 
to  Dodge  City,  where  Cheyne  took  comfort 
once  again  froin  setting  his  watch  an  hour 
ahead. 

There  was  very  little  talk  in  the  car.  The 
secretary  and  typewriter  sat  together  on 
the  stamped  Spanish-leather  cushions  by  the 
plate-glass  observation-window  at  the  rear 
end,  watching  the  surge  and  ripple  of  the  ties 
crowded  back  behind  them,  and,  it  is  believed, 


254  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

making  notes  of  the  scenery.  Cheyne  moved 
nervously  between  his  own  extravagant  gor- 
geousness  and  the  naked  necessity  of  the 
combination,  an  unht  cigar  in  his  teeth,  till 
the  pitying  crews  forgot  that  he  was  their 
tribal  enemy,  and  did  their  best  to  enter- 
tain him. 

At  night  the  bunched  electrics  lit  up  that 
distressful  palace  of  all  the  luxuries,  and  they 
fared  sumptuously,  swinging  on  through  the 
emptiness  of  abject  desolation.  Now  they 
heard  the  swish  of  a  water-tank,  and  the  gut- 
tural voice  of  a  Chinaman,  the  clink-clink  of 
hammers  that  tested  the  Krupp  steel  wheels, 
and  the  oath  of  a  tramp  chased  off  the  rear- 
platform  ;  now  the  solid  crash  of  coal  shot 
into  the  tender ;  and  now  a  beating  back 
of  noises  as  they  flew  past  a  waiting  train. 
Now  they  looked  out  into  great  abysses,  a 
trestle  purring  beneath  their  tread,  or  up  to 
rocks  that  barred  out  half  the  stars.  Now 
scaur  and  ravine  changed  and  rolled  back  to 
jagged  mountains  on  the  horizon's  edge,  and 
now  broke  into  hills  lower  and'  lower,  till  at 
last  came  the  true  plains. 

At  Dodge  City  an  unknown  hand  threw  in 
a  copy  of  a  Kansas  paper  containing  some 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  255 

sort  of  an  interview  with  Harvey,  who  had 
evidently  fallen  in  with  an  enterprising  re- 
porter, telegraphed  on  from  Boston.  The 
joyful  journalese  revealed  that  it  was  beyond 
question  their  boy,  and  it  soothed  Mrs,  Cheyne 
for  a  while.  Her  one  word  "  hurry  "  was  con- 
veyed by  the  crews  to  the  engineers  at  Nick- 
erson,  Topeka,  and  Marceline,  where  the 
grades  are  easy,  and  they  brushed  the  Con- 
tinent behind  them.  Towns  and  villages 
were  close  together  now,  and  a  man  could 
feel  here  that  he  moved  among  people. 

**  I  can't  see  the  dial,  and  my  eyes  ache  so. 
What  are  we  doing  ?  " 

"  The  very  best  we  can,  mama.  There  's 
no  sense  in  getting  in  before  the  Limited. 
We  'd  only  have  to  wait." 

"  I  don't  care.  I  want  to  feel  we  're  mov- 
ing.    Sit  down  and  tell  me  the  miles." 

Cheyne  sat  down  and  read  the  dial  for  her 
(there  were  some  miles  which  stand  for  rec- 
ords to  this  day),  but  the  seventy-foot  car 
never  changed  its  long  steamer-like  roll,  mov- 
ing through  the  heat  with  the  hum  of  a  giant 
bee.  Yet  the  speed  was  not  enough  for  Mrs. 
Cheyne ;  and  the  heat,  the  remorseless  Au- 
gust heat,  was  making  her  giddy ;  the  clock- 


256  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

hands  would  not  move,  and  when,  oh,  when 
would  they  be  in  Chicago  ? 

It  is  not  true  that,  as  they  changed  en- 
gines at  Fort  Madison,  Cheyne  passed  over 
to  the  Amalgamated  Brotherhood  of  Loco- 
motive Enorineers  an  endowment  sufficient  to 
enable  them  to  fight  him  and  his  fellows  on 
equal  terms  for  evermore.  He  paid  his  obli- 
gations to  engineers  and  firemen  as  he  be- 
lieved they  deserved,  and  only  his  bank 
knows  what  he  gave  the  crews  who  had  sym- 
pathized with  him.  It  is  on  record  that  the 
last  crew  took  entire  charge  of  switching 
operations  at  Sixteenth  Street,  because  "she" 
was  in  a  doze  at  last,  and  Heaven  was  to  help 
any  one  who  bumped  her. 

Now  the  highly  paid  specialist  who  conveys 
the  Lake  Shore  and  Michigan  Southern  Lim- 
ited from  Chicago  to  Elkhart  is  something  of 
an  autocrat,  and  he  does  not  approve  of  being 
told  how  to  back  up  to  a  car.  None  the  less 
he  handled  the  "Constance"  as  if  she  might 
have  been  a  load  of  dynamite,  and  when  the 
crew  rebuked  him,  they  did  it  in  whispers 
and  dumb  show. 

"  Pshaw  !  "  said  the  Atchison,  Topeka,  and 
Santa  Fe  men,  discussing  life  later,  "we  were 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  257 

n't  runnin'  for  a  record.  Harvey  Cheyne's 
wife,  she  were  sick  back,  an'  we  did  n't  want 
to  jounce  her.  'Come  to  think  of  it,  our  run- 
nin' time  from  San  Diecro  to  Chicago  was 
57.54.  You  can  tell  that  to  them  Eastern 
way-trains.  When  we  're  tryin'  for  a  record, 
we  '11  let  you  know." 

To  the  Western  man  (though  this  would 
not  please  either  city)  Chicago  and  Boston 
are  cheek  by  jowl,  and  some  railroads  en- 
courage the  delusion.  The  Limited  whirled 
the  "Constance"  into  Buffalo  and  the  arms 
of  the  New  York  Central  and  Hudson  River 
(illustrious  magnates  with  white  whiskers  and 
gold  charms  on  their  watch-chains  boarded 
her  here  to  talk  a  little  business  to  Cheyne), 
who  slid  her  gracefully  into  Albany,  where 
the  Boston  and  Albany  completed  the  run 
from  tide-water  to  tide-water  —  total  time, 
eighty-seven  hours  and  thirty-five  minutes, 
or  three  days,  fifteen  hours  and  one  half 
Harvey  was  waiting  for  them. 

After  violent  emotion  most  people  and  all 
boys  demand  food.  They  feasted  the  returned 
prodigal  behind  drawn  curtains,  cut  off  in 
their  great  happiness,  while  the  trains  roared 


258  "CAPTAINS    COURAGEOUS" 

in  and  out  around  them.  Harvey  ate,  drank,  and 
enlarged  on  his  adventures  all  in  one  breath, 
and  when  he  had  a  hand  free  his  mother 
fondled  it.  His  voice  was  thickened  with  liv- 
ing in  the  open,  salt  air;  his  palms  were  rough 
and  hard,  his  wrists  dotted  with  the  marks  of 
gurry-sores ;  and  a  fine  full  flavor  of  cod-fish 
hung  round  rubber  boots  and  blue  jersey. 

The  father,  well  used  to  judging  men, 
looked  at  him  keenly.  He  did  not  know 
what  enduring  harm  the  boy  might  have 
taken.  Indeed,  he  caught  himself  thinking 
that  he  knew  very  little  whatever  of  his  son  ; 
but  he  distinctly  remembered  an  unsatisfied, 
dough-faced  youth  who  took  delight  in  "call- 
ing down  the  old  man  "  and  reducing  his  mo- 
ther to  tears  —  such  a  person  as  adds  to  the 
gaiety  of  public  rooms  and  hotel  piazzas, 
where  the  ingenuous  young  of  the  wealthy 
play  with  or  revile  the  bell-boys.  But  this 
well  set-up  fisher-youth  did  not  wriggle, 
looked  at  him  with  eyes  steady,  clear,  and 
unflinching,  and  spoke  in  a  tone  distinctly, 
even  startlingly,  respectful.  There  was  that 
in  his  voice,  too,  which  seemed  to  promise  that 
the  change  might  be  permanent,  and  that  the 
new  Harvey  had  come  to  stay. 


"CAPTAINS  COURAGEOUS"  259 

"  Some  one  *s  been  coercing  him,"  thought 
Cheyne.  "  Now  Constance  would  never  have 
allowed  that.  Don't  see  as  Europe  could  have 
done  it  any  better." 

**  But  why  did  n't  you  tell  this  man,  Troop, 
who  you  were  ? "  the  mother  repeated,  when 
Harvey  had  expanded  his  story  at  least  twice. 

**  Disko  Troop,  dear.  The  best  man  that 
ever  walked  a  deck.  I  don't  care  who  the 
next  is." 

**  Why  did  n't  you  tell  him  to  put  you 
ashore  ?  You  know  papa  would  have  made 
it  up  to  him  ten  times  over." 

*'  I  know  it ;  but  he  thought  I  was  crazy. 
I  'm  afraid  I  called  him  a  thief  because  I 
could  n't  find  the  bills  in  my  pocket." 

**  A  sailor  found  them  by  the  flagstaff  that 
—  that  night,"  sobbed  Mrs.  Cheyne. 

"That  explains  it,  then.  I  don't  blame 
Troop  any.  I  just  said  I  would  n't  work  — 
on  a  Banker,  too  —  and  of  course  he  hit  me 
on  the  nose,  and  oh  !  I  bled  like  a  stuck  hog." 

**  My  poor  darling !  They  must  have 
abused  you  horribly." 

"  Dunno  quite.     Well,  after  that,  I  saw  a 

light." 

Cheyne  slapped  his  leg  and  chuckled.    This 


26o  "CAPTAINS  COURAGEOUS" 

was  going  to  be  a  boy  after  his  own  hungry 
heart.  He  had  never  seen  precisely  that  twin- 
kle in  Harvey's  eye  before. 

"  And  the  old  man  gave  me  ten  and  a  half 
a  month ;  he  's  paid  me  half  now ;  and  I  took 
hold  with  Dan  and  pitched  right  in.  I  can't 
do  a  man's  work  yet.  But  I  can  handle  a  dory 
'most  as  well  as  Dan,  and  I  don't  get  rattled 
In  a  fog  —  much ;  and  I  can  take  my  trick  in 
light  winds  —  that  's  steering,  dear  —  and  I 
can  'most  bait  up  a  trawl,  and  I  know  my 
ropes,  of  course ;  and  I  can  pitch  fish  till  the 
cows  come  home,  and  I  'm  great  on  old 
Josephus,  and  I  '11  show  you  how  I  can  clear 
coffee  with  a  piece  of  fish-skin,  and — I  think 
I  '11  have  another  cup,  please.  Say,  you  've  no 
notion  what  a  heap  of  work  there  is  in  ten  and 
a  half  a  month  1 " 

"  I  began  with  eight  and  a  half,  my  son," 
said  Cheyne. 

"'That  so?     You  never  told  me,  sir." 

"  You  never  asked,  Harve.  I  '11  tell  you 
about  it  some  day,  if  you  care  to  listen.  Try 
a  stuffed  olive." 

*'  Troop  says  the  most  interesting  thing  in 
the  world  is  to  find  out  how  the  next  man 
gets  his  vittles.    It 's  great  to  have  a  trimmed- 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  261 

up  meal  again.  We  were  well  fed,  though. 
Best  mug  on  the  Banks.  Disko  fed  us  first- 
class.  He  's  a  great  man.  And  Dan  —  that's 
his  son  —  Dan  's  my  partner.  And  there  's 
Uncle  Salters  and  his  manures,  an'  he  reads 
Josephus.  He  's  sure  I  'm  crazy  yet.  And 
there  's  poor  little  Penn,  and  he  is  crazy.  You 
must  n't  talk  to  him  about  Johnstown,  be- 
cause—  And,  oh,  you  must  know  Tom  Piatt 
and  Long  Jack  and  Manuel.  Manuel  saved 
my  life.  I  'm  sorry  he  's  a  Portugee.  He 
can't  talk  much,  but  he  's  an  everlasting  mu- 
sician. He  found  me  struck  adrift  and  drift- 
ing, and  hauled  me  in." 

"  I  wonder  your  nervous  system  is  n't  com- 
pletely wrecked,"  said  Mrs.  Cheyne. 

"What  for,  mama? ^I  worked  like  a  horse 

and^I  ate  like  a  hog  and  I  slept  like  a  dead 
man." 

That  was  too  much  for  Mrs.  Cheyne,  who 
began  to  think  of  her  visions  of  a  corpse  rock- 
ing on  the  salty  seas.  She  went  to  her  state- 
room, and  Harvey  curled  up  beside  his  father, 
explaining  his  indebtedness. 

"  You  can  depend  upon  me  to  do  every- 
thing I  can  for  the  crowd,  Harve.  They  seem 
to  be  good  men  on  your  showing." 


262  **  CAPTAINS  COURAGEOUS '» 

"  Best  in  the  fleet,  sir.  Ask  at  Gloucester," 
said  Harvey.  "  But  Disko  believes  still  he  '3 
cured  me  of  being  crazy.  Dan  's  the  only 
one  I  Ve  let  on  to  about  you,  and  our  private 
cars  and  all  the  rest  of  it,  and  I  'm  not  quite 
sure  Dan  believes.  I  want  to  paralyze  'em 
to-morrow.  Say,  can't  they  run  the  '  Con- 
stance' over  to  Gloucester?  Mama  don't 
look  fit  to  be  moved,  anyway,  and  we  're 
bound  to  finish  cleaning  out  by  to-morrow. 
Wouverman  takes  our  fish.  You  see,  we  're 
first  off  the  Banks  this  season,  and  it  's  four 
twenty-five  a  quintal.  We  held  out  till  he 
paid  it.     They  want  it  quick." 

"  You  mean  you  '11  have  to  work  to-mor- 
row, then  ? " 

"  I  told  Troop  I  would.     I  'm  on  the  scales. 

've  brought  the  tallies  with  me."    He  looked 

at  the  greasy  notebook  with  an  air  of  impor- 

\tance  that  made  his  father   choke.     "  There 

is  n't  but  three — no — two  ninety-four  or  five 

quintal  more  by  my  reckoning." 

"  Hire  a  substitute,"  suggested  Cheyne,  to 
see  what  Harvey  would  say. 

"Can't,  sir.  I  'm  tally-man  for  the  schooner. 
Troop  says  I  've  a  better  head  for  figures  than 
Dan.     Troop  's  a  mighty  just  man." 


fi 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  263 

"Well,  suppose  I  don't  move  the  'Con- 
stance' to-night,  how  '11  you  fix  it?" 

Harvey  looked  at  the  clock,  which  marked 
twenty  past  eleven. 

"Then  I  '11  sleep  here  till  three  and  catch 
the  four  o'clock  freight.  They  let  us  men 
from  the  Fleet  ride  free  as  a  rule." 

"That  's  a  notion.  But  I  think  we  can 
get  the  '  Constance '  around  about  as  soon 
as  your  men's  freight.  Better  go  to  bed 
now." 

Harvey  spread  himself  on  the  sofa,  kicked 
off  his  boots,  and  was  asleep  before  his  father 
could  shade  the  electrics.  Cheyne  sat  watch- 
ing the  young  face  under  the  shadow  of  the 
arm  thrown  over  the  forehead,  and  among 
many  things  that  occurred  to  him  was  the 
notion  that  he  might  perhaps  have  been  neg- 
lectful as  a  father. 

"  One  never  knows  when  one  *s  taking 
one  's  biggest  risks,"  he  said.  "  It  might 
have  been  worse  than  drowning ;  but  I  don't 
think  it  has  —  I  don't  think  it  has.  If  it 
has  n't,  I  have  n't  enough  to  pay  Troop,  that 's 
all ;  and  I  don't  think  it  has." 

Morning  brought  a  fresh  sea  breeze  through 
the  windows,  the  "Constance"  was  side-tracked 


264  *' CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

among  freight-cars  at  Gloucester,  and  Harvey 
had  gone  to  his  business. 

"Then  he  '11  fall  overboard  again  and  be 
drowned,"  the  mother  said  bitterly. 

"  We  '11  go  and  look,  ready  to  throw  him 
a  rope  in  case.  You  've  never  seen  him 
working  for  his  bread,"  said  the  father. 

"  What  nonsense !  As  if  any  one  ex- 
pected — " 

"Well,  the  man  that  hired  him  did.  He  *s 
about  right,  too." 

They  went  down  between  the  stores  full  of 
fishermen's  oilskins  to  Wouverman's  wharf, 
where  the  We  're  Here  rode  high,  her  Bank 
flag  still  flying,  all  hands  busy  as  beavers  in 
the  glorious  morning  light.  Disko  stood  by 
the  main  hatch  superintending  Manuel,  Penn, 
and  Uncle  Salters  at  the  tackle.  Dan'  was 
swinging  the  loaded  baskets  inboard  as  Long 
Jack  and  Tom  Piatt  filled  them,  and  Harvey, 
with  a  notebook,  represented  the  skipper's 
interests  before  the  clerk  of  the  scales  on  the 
salt-sprinkled  wharf-edge. 

"Ready ! "  cried  the  voices  below.  "  Haul ! " 
cried  Disko.  "  Hi !  "  said  Manuel.  "  Here  ! " 
said  Dan,  swinging  the  basket.     Then  they 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  2&1, 

heard  Harvey's  voice,  clear  and  fresh,  check- 
inor  the  weig-hts. 

The  last  of  the  fish  had  been  whipped  out, 
and  Harvey  leaped  from  the  string-piece  six 
feet  to  a  ratline,  as  the  shortest  way  to  hand 
Disko  the  tally,  shouting,  "  Two  ninety-seven, 
and  an  empty  hold !  " 

"  What  's  total,  Harve  ?  "  said  Disko. 

"  Eight  sixty-five.  Three  thousand  six 
hundred  and  seventy-six  dollars  and  a.  quar- 
ter.    'Wish  1  'd  share  as  well  as  wage." 

'*  W^ell,  I  won't  go  so  far  as  to  say  you 
hev  n't  deserved  it,  Harve.  Don't  you  want 
to  slip  up  to  Wouverman's  office  and  take 
him  our  tallies  ?  " 

"  Who  's  that  boy  ? "  said  Cheyne  to  Dan, 
well  used  to  all  manner  of  questions  from 
those  idle  imbeciles  called  summer  boarders. 

"Well  he  's  a  kind  o'  supercargo,"  was 
the  answer.  "We  picked  him  up  struck 
adrift  on  the  Banks.  Fell  overboard  from  a 
liner,  he  sez.  He  was  a  passenger.  He  's 
by  way  o'  bein'  a  fisherman  now." 

"  Is  he  worth  his  keep  ?  " 

"  Ye-ep.  Dad,  this  man  wants  to  know 
ef  Harve  's  worth  his  keep.      Say,   would  you 


266  "CAPTAINS    COURAGEOUS" 

like  to  go  aboard  ?  We  '11  fix  a  ladder  for 
her." 

**  I  should  very  much,  indeed.  'T  won't 
hurt  you,  mama,  and  you  '11  be  able  to  see  for 
yourself" 

The  woman  who  could  not  lift  her  head  a 
week  ago  scrambled  down  the  ladder,  and 
stood  aghast  amid  the  mess   and  tangle  aft. 

"  Be  you  anyways  interested  in  Harve  ?  " 
said  Disko. 

"Well,  ye-es." 

"  He  's  a  good  boy,  an'  ketches  right  hold 
jest  as  he  's  bid.  You  've  heard  haow  we 
found  him  ?  He  was  sufferin'  from  nervous 
prostration,  I  guess,  'r  else  his  head  had  hit 
somethin',  when  we  hauled  him  aboard.  He  's 
all  over  that  naow.  Yes,  this  is  the  cabin. 
'T  ain't  anyways  in  order,  but  you  're  quite 
welcome  to  look  around.  Those  are  his 
figures  on  the  stove-pipe,  where  we  ke6p  the 
reckonin'  mostly." 

**  Did  he  sleep  here  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Cheyne, 
sitting  on  a  yellow  locker  and  surveying  the 
disorderly  bunks. 

"No.  He  berthed  forward,  madam,  an' 
only  fer  him  an'  my  boy  hookin'  fried  pies  an' 
muggin'   up   when    they    ought    to   ha'    been 


«* CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  267 

asleep,  I  dunno  as  I  've  any  special  fault  to 
find  with  him." 

"  There  were  n't  nothin'  wrong  with  Harve," 
said  Uncle  Salters,  descending  the  steps.  "He 
hung  my  boots  on  the  main-truck,  and  he  ain't 
over  an'  above  respectful  to  such  as  knows 
more  'n  he  do,  specially  about  farmin' ;  but  he 
were  mostly  misled  by  Dan." 

Dan  in  the  meantime,  profiting  by  dark 
hints  from  Harvey  early  that  morning,  was 
executing  a  war-dance  on  deck.  *'Tom, 
Tom  !  "  he  whispered  down  the  hatch.  **  His 
folks  has  come,  an'  dad  hain't  caught  on  yet, 
an'  they  're  pow-wowin'  in  the  cabin.  She  's 
a  daisy,  an'  he  's  all  Harve  claimed  he  was,  by 
the  looks  of  him." 

"Howly  Smoke!"  said  Long  Jack,  climbing 
out  covered  with  salt  and  fish-skin.  "  D'  ye 
belave  his  tale  av  the  kid  an'  the  little  four- 
horse  rig  was  thrue  ?  " 

"  I  knew  it  all  along,"  said  Dan.  "  Come 
an'  see  dad  mistook  in  his  judgments." 

They  came  delightedly,  just  in  time  to  hear 
Cheyne  say:  "  I  'm  glad  he  has  a  good  char- 
acter, because  —  he  's  my  son." 

Disko's  jaw  fell, —  Long  Jack  always 
vowed  that  he  heard   the  click  of  it, —  and 


268  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

he  Stared  alternately  at  the  man  and  the 
woman. 

"  I  got  his  telegram  in  San  Diego  four  days 
ago,  and  we  came  over." 

"In  a  private  car?"  said  Dan.  "He  said 
ye  might." 

"In  a  private  car,  of  course." 

Dan  looked  at  his  father  with  a  hurricane 
of  irreverent  winks. 

"  There  was  a  tale  he  tould  us  av  drivin' 
four  little  ponies  in  a  rig  av  his  own,"  said 
Long  Jack.     "  Was  that  thrue  now  ?  " 

"Very  likely,"  said  Cheyne.  "Was  it, 
mama?  " 

"  He  had  a  little  drag  when  we  were  in 
Toledo,  I  think,"  said  the  mother. 

Long  Jack  whistled.  "  Oh,  Disko  !  "  said 
he,  and  that  was  all. 

"I  wuz  —  I  am  mistook  in  my  jedgments 
—  worse  'n  the  men  o'  Marblehead,"  said 
Disko,  as  though  the  words  were  being  wind- 
lassed  out  of  him.  "  I  don't  mind  ownin'  to 
you,  Mister  Cheyne,  as  I  mistrusted  the  boy 
to  be  crazy.  He  talked  kinder  odd  about 
money." 

"  So  he  told  me." 

"Did  he  tell  ye  anything  else?      'Cause 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  269 

I  pounded  him  once."    This  with  a  somewhat 
anxious  glance  at  Mrs.  Cheyne. 

•*Oh,  yes,"  Cheyne  replied.  "I  should  say 
it  probably  did  him  more  good  than  anything 
else  in  the  world." 

"  I  jedged  't  wuz  necessary,  er  I  would  n't 
ha'  done  it.  I  don't  want  you  to  think  we 
abuse  our  boys  any  on  this  packet." 

"  I  don't  think  you  do,  Mr.  Troop." 

Mrs.  Cheyne  had  been  looking  at  the  faces 
—  Disko's  ivory-yellow,  hairless,  iron  coun- 
tenance; Uncle  Salters's,  with  its  rim  of  agri- 
cultural hair;  Penn's  bewildered  simplicity; 
Manuel's  quiet  smile ;  Long  Jack's  grin  o( 
delight,  and  Tom  Piatt's  scar.  Rough,  by 
her  standards,  they  certainly  were ;  but  she 
had  a  mother's  wits  in  her  eyes,  and  she  rose 
with  outstretched  hands. 

"  Oh,  tell  me,  which  is  who  ? "  said  she, 
half  sobbing.  "  I  want  to  thank  you  and  bless 
you  —  all  of  you." 

*'  Faith,  that  pays  me  a  hunder  time,"  said 
Long  Jack. 

Disko  introduced  them  all  in  due  form. 
The  captain  of  an  old-time  Chinaman  could 
have  done  no  better,  and  Mrs.  Cheyne  bab- 
bled incoherently.     She  nearly  threw  herself 


270  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

into  Manuel's  arms  when  she  understood  that 
he  had  first  found  Harvey. 

"  But  how  shall  I  leave  him  dreeft  ?  "  said 
poor  Manuel.  *'  What  do  you  yourself  if  you 
find  him  so  ?  Eh,  wha-at  ?  We  are  in  one 
good  boy,  and  I  am  ever  so  pleased  he  come 
to  be  your  son." 

"  And  he  told  me  Dan  was  his  partner ! " 
she  cried.  Dan  was  already  sufficiently  pink, 
but  he  turned  a  rich  crimson  when  Mrs. 
Cheyne  kissed  him  on  both  cheeks  before  the 
assembly.  Then  they  led  her  forward  to  show 
her  the  foc'sle,  at  which  she  wept  again,  and 
must  needs  go  down  to  see  Harvey's  identical 
bunk,  and  there  she  found  the  nigger  cook 
cleaning  up  the  stove,  and  he  nodded  as 
though  she  were  some  one  he  had  expected 
to  meet  for  years.  They  tried,  two  at  a  time, 
to  explain  the  boat's  daily  life  to  her,  and  she 
sat  by  the  pawl-post,  her  gloved  hands  on 
the  greasy  table,  laughing  with  trembling  lips 
and  crying  with  dancing  eyes. 

**  And  who  's  ever  to  use  the  We  're  Here 
after  this  ? "  said  Long  Jack  to  Tom  Piatt. 
'•  I  feel  it  as  if  she  'd  made  a  cathedral  av 
ut  all." 

"  Cathedral !  "  sneered  Tom  Piatt.     "  Oh, 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  271 

ef  it  had  bin  even  the  Fish  C'mmission  boat 
instid  o'  this  bally-hoo  o'  blazes.  Ef  we 
only  hed  some  decency  an'  order  an'  side- 
boys  when  she  goes  over !  She  '11  have  to 
climb  that  ladder  like  a  hen,  an'  we  —  we 
ought  to  be  mannin'  the  yards  !  " 

"Then  Harvey  was  7iot  mad,"  said  Penn, 
slowly,  to  Cheyne. 

"No,  indeed  —  thank  God,"  the  big  mil- 
lionaire replied,  stooping  down  tenderly. 

"  It  must  be  terrible  to  be  mad.  Except 
to  lose  your  child,  I  do  not  know  anything 
more  terrible.  But  your  child  has  come  back  ? 
Let  us  thank  God  for  that." 

"  Hello  !  "  said  Harvey,  looking  down  upon 
them  benignly  from  the  wharf. 

"  I  wuz  mistook,  Harve.  I  wuz  mistook," 
said  Disko,  swiftly,  holding  up  a  hand.  "  I 
wuz  mistook  in  my  jedgments.  Ye  need  n't 
rub  it  in  any  more." 

"  Guess  I  '11  take  care  o'  that,"  said  Dan, 
under  his  breath. 

"  You  '11  be  goin'  off  naow,  won't  ye  ?  " 

"Well,  not  without  the  balance  of  my 
wages,  'less  you  want  to  have  the  We  We  Here 
attached." 

'•  Thet  's  so ;   I  'd   clean  forgot " ;  and  he 


272  "CAPTAINS  COURAGEOUS" 

counted  out  the  remaining  dollars.  "  You 
done  all  you  contracted  to  do,  Harve;  and 
you  done  it  'baout  's  well  as  ef  you  'd  been 
brought  up — "  Here  Disko  brought  himself 
up.  He  did  not  quite  see  where  the  sentence 
was  going  to  end. 

"  Outside  of  a  private  car  ?  "  suggested  Dan, 
wickedly. 

"  Come  on,  and  I  '11  show  her  to  you,"  said 
Harvey. 

Cheyne  stayed  to  talk  to  Disko,  but  the 
others  made  a  procession  to  the  depot,  with 
Mrs.  Cheyne  at  the  head.  The  French  maid 
shrieked  at  the  invasion ;  and  Harvey  laid 
the  glories  of  the  "Constance"  before  them 
without  a  word.  They  took  them  in  in  equal 
silence  —  stamped  leather,  silver  door-handles 
and  rails,  cut  velvet,  plate-glass,  nickel,  bronze, 
hammered  iron,  and  the  rare  woods  of  the 
continent  inlaid. 

"  I  told  you,"  said  Harvey ;  "  I  told  you." 
This  was  his  crowning  revenge,  and  a  most 
ample  one. 

Mrs.  Cheyne  decreed  a  meal ;  and  that  no- 
thing might  be  lacking  to  the  tale  Long  Jack 
told  afterwards  in  his  boarding-house,  she 
waited  on  them  herself.     Men  who  are  ac- 


MRS.    CHEYNE    INTRODUCES    THE    CREW  OF    THE   "WE    'RE   HERE" 
TO   THE   "CCJNSTANXE." 


"CAPTAINS    COURAGEOUS"  275 

customed  to  eat  at  tiny  tables  in  howling 
gales  have  curiously  neat  and  finished  table- 
manners  ;  but  Mrs.  Cheyne,  who  did  not 
know  this,  was  surprised.  She  longed  to 
have  Manuel  for  a  butler;  so  silently  and 
easily  did  he  comport  himself  among  the  frail 
glassware  and  dainty  silver.  Tom  Piatt  re- 
membered great  days  on  the  Ohio  and  the 
manners  of  foreign  potentates  who  dined  with 
the  officers ;  and  Long  Jack,  being  Irish, 
supplied  the  small  talk  till  all  were  at  their 
ease. 

In  the  We  're  Heres  cabin  the  fathers  took 
stock  of  each  other  behind  their  cigars. 
Cheyne  knew  well  enough  when  he  dealt 
with  a  man  to  whom  he  could  not  offer 
money ;  equally  well  he  knew  that  no  money 
could  pay  for  what  Disko  had  done.  He 
kept  his  own  counsel  and  waited  for  an  open- 
ing. 

*'  I  hev  n't  done  anything  to  your  boy  or 
fer  your  boy  excep'  make  him  work  a  piece 
an'  learn  him  how  to  handle  the  hog-yoke," 
said  Disko.  *'  He  has  twice  my  boy's  head 
for  figgers." 

"  By  the  way,"  Cheyne  answered  casually. 
"  what  d'  you  calculate  to  make  of  your  boy?" 


276  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

Disko  removed  his  cigar  and  waved  it  com- 
prehensively round  the  cabin.  *'  Dan  's  jest 
plain  boy,  an'  he  don't  allow  me  to  do  any 
of  his  thinkin'.  He  '11  hev  this  able  little 
packet  when  I  'm  laid  by.  He  ain't  no- 
ways anxious  to  quit  the  business.  I  know 
that." 

"  Mmm  !    'Ever  been  West,'  Mr.  Troop  ?  " 

"'Bin  's  fer  ez  Noo  York  once  in  a  boat. 
I  've  no  use  for  railroads.  No  more  hez  Dan. 
Salt  water  's  good  enough  fer  the  Troops. 
I  've  been  'most  everywhere  —  in  the  nat'ral 
way,  o'  course." 

"  I  can  give  him  all  the  salt  water  he  's 
likely  to  need  —  till  he  's  a  skipper." 

"  Haow  's  that?  I  thought  you  wuz  a 
kinder  railroad  king.  Harve  told  me  so  when 
—  I  was  mistook  in  my  jedgments." 

"  We  're  all  apt  to  be  mistaken.  I  fancied 
perhaps  you  might  know  I  own  a  line  of  tea- 
clippers —  San  Francisco  to  Yokohama — six 
of 'em — -iron-built,  about  seventeen  hundred 
and  eighty  tons  apiece." 

"  Blame  that  boy  !  He  never  told.  I  'd 
ha'  listened  to  that,  instid  o'  his  truck  abaout 
railroads  an'  pony-carriages." 

**  He  did  n't  know." 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  277 

"  'Little  thing  like  that  slipped  his  mind,  1 
guess." 

"No,  I  only  capt  —  took  hold  of  the  'Blue 
M.'  freighters  —  Morgan  and  McQuade's  old 
line  —  this  summer." 

Disko  collapsed  where  he  sat,  beside  the 
stove. 

"  Great  Caesar  Almighty  !  I  mistrust  I  Ve 
bin  fooled  from  one  end  to  the  other.  Why, 
Phil  Airheart  he  went  from  this  very  town 
six  year  back  —  no,  seven  —  an'  he  's  mate 
on  the  San  Jose  now  —  twenty-six  days  was 
her  time  out.  His  sister  she  's  livin'  here 
yet,  an'  she  reads  his  letters  to  my  woman. 
An'  you  own  the  '  Blue  M.'  freighters?  " 

Cheyne  nodded. 

"  If  I  'd  known  that  I  'd  ha'  jerked  the 
We  're  Here  back  to  port  all  standin',  on  the 
word." 

"  Perhaps  that  would  n't  have  been  so  good 
for  Harvey." 

"  Ef  I  'd  only  known  !  Ef  he  'd  only  said 
about  the  cussed  Line,  I  'd  ha'  understood ! 
I  '11  never  stand  on  my  own  jedgments  again 
—  never.  They 're  well-found  packets.  Phil 
Airheart  he  says  so." 

"  I  'm  glad  to  have  a  recommend  from  that 


278  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

quarter.  Airheart  's  skipper  of  the  San  Jose 
now.  What  I  was  getting  at  is  to  know 
whether  you  'd  lend  me  Dan  for  a  year  or 
two,  and  we  '11  see  if  we  can't  make  a  mate 
of  him.  Would  you  trust  him  to  Airheart  ?  " 
"  It  's  a  resk  taking  a  raw  boy  — " 
"  I  know  a  man  who  did  more  for  me." 
"That  's  diff'runt.  Look  at  here  naow,  I 
ain't  recommendin'  Dan  special  because  he  's 
my  own  flesh  an'  blood.  /  know  Bank  ways 
ain't  clipper  ways,  but  he  hain't  much  to  learn. 
Steer  he  can  —  no  boy  better,  ef  /  say  it  — 
an'  the  rest  's  in  our  blood  an'  get ;  but  I 
could  wish  he  war  n't  so  cussed  weak  on 
navigation." 

"Airheart  will  attend  to  that.  He  '11  ship 
as  a  boy  for  a  voyage  or  two,  and  then  we 
can  put  him  in  the  way  of  doing  better. 
Suppose  you  take  him  in  hand  this  winter, 
and  I  '11  send  for  him  early  in  the  spring.  I 
know  the  Pacific  's  a  long  ways  off — " 

"  Pshaw  !  We  Troops,  livin'  an'  dead,  are 
all  around  the  earth  an'  the  seas  thereof." 

"But  I  want  you  to  understand  —  and  I 
mean  this — any  time  you  think  you  'd  like 
to  see  him,  tell  me,  and  I  '11  attend  to  the 
transportation.     'T  won't  cost  you  a  cent." 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  279 

"  Ef  you  '11  walk  a  piece  with  me,  we  '11 
go  to  my  house  an'  talk  this  to  my  woman. 
I  Ve  bin  so  crazy  mistook  in  all  my  jedg- 
ments,  it  don't  seem  to  me  this  was  like  to 
be  real." 

They  went  over  to  Troop's  eighteen-hun- 
dred-dollar,  blue-trimmed  white  house,  with  a 
retired  dory  full  of  nasturtiums  in  the  front 
yard  and  a  shuttered  parlor  which  was  a  mu- 
seum of  oversea  plunder.  There  sat  a  large 
woman,  silent  and  grave,  with  the  dim  eyes 
of  those  who  look  long  to  sea  for  the  return 
of  their  beloved.  Cheyne  addressed  himself 
to  her,  and  she  gave  consent  wearily. 

*'  We  lose  one  hundred  a  year  from  Glou- 
cester only,  Mr.  Cheyne,"  she  said — "one 
hundred  boys  an'  men ;  and  I  've  come  so  's 
to  hate  the  sea  as  if  't  wuz  alive  an'  listenin'. 
God  never  made  it  fer  humans  to  anchor  on. 
These  packets  o'  yours  they  go  straight  out, 
I  take  it,  and  straight  home  again  ? " 

"As  straight  as  the  winds  let  'em,  and  I 
give  a  bonus  for  record  passages.  Tea  don't 
improve  by  being  at  sea." 

"When  he  wuz  little  he  used  to  play  at 
keeping  store,  an'  I  had  hopes  he  might  fol- 
low that  up.     But  soon  's  he  could  paddle  a 


28o  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

dory   I   knew  that  were  goin'   to  be  denied 
me. 

"They  're  square-riggers,  mother;  iron- 
built  an'  well  found.  Remember  what  Phil's 
sister  reads  you  when  she  gits  his  letters." 

'•  I  Ve  never  known  as  Phil  told  lies,  but 
he  's  too  venturesome  (like  most  of  'em  that 
use  the  sea).  Ef  Dan  sees  fit,  Mr.  Cheyne, 
he  can  go  —  fer  all  o'  me." 

"  She  jest  despises  the  ocean,"  Disko  ex- 
plained, "  an'  I — I  dunno  haow  to  act  polite, 
I  guess,  er  I  'd  thank  you  better." 

"  My  father — my  own  eldest  brother — two 
nephews  —  an'  my  second  sister's  man,"  she 
said,  dropping  her  head  on  her  hand.  "Would 
you  care  fer  any  one  that  took  all  those  ?  " 

Cheyne  was  relieved  when  Dan  turned  up 
and  accepted  with  more  delight  than  he  was 
able  to  put  into  words.  Indeed,  the  offer 
meant  a  plain  and  sure  road  to  all  desirable 
things ;  but  Dan  thought  most  of  command- 
ing watch  on  broad  decks,  and  looking  into 
far-away  harbors. 

Mrs.  Cheyne  had  spoken  privately  to  the 
unaccountable  Manuel  in  the  matter  of  Har- 
vey's rescue.  He  seemed  to  have  no  desire  for 
money.      Pressed  hard,  he  said  that  he  would 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  281 

take  five  dollars,  because  he  wanted  to  buy 
something  for  a  girl.  Otherwise  —  "How 
shall  I  take  money  when  I  make  so  easy  my 
eats  and  smokes  ?  You  will  giva  some  if 
I  like  or  no  ?  Eh,  wha-at  ?  Then  you  shall 
giva  me  money,  but  not  that  way.  You  shall 
giva  all  you  can  think."  He  introduced  her  to 
a  snuffy  Portuguese  priest  with  a  list  of  semi- 
destitute  widows  as  long  as  his  cassock.  As 
a  strict  Unitarian,  Mrs.  Cheyne  could  not 
sympathize  with  the  creed,  but  she  ended  by 
respecting  the  brown,  voluble  little  man. 

Manuel,  faithful  son  of  the  Church,  appro- 
priated all  the  blessings  showered  on  her  for 
her  charity.  "That  letta  me  out,"  said  he. 
'*  I  have  now  ver'  good  absolutions  for  six 
months" ;  and  he  strolled  forth  to  get  a  hand- 
kerchief for  the  girl  of  the  hour  and  to  break 
the  hearts  of  all  the  others. 

Salters  went  West  for  a  season  with  Penn, 
and  left  no  address  behind.  He  had  a  dread 
that  these  millionary  people,  with  wasteful 
private  cars,  might  take  undue  interest  in  his 
companion.  It  was  better  to  visit  inland  rel- 
atives till  the  coast  was  clear.  "  Never  you 
be  adopted  by  rich  folk,  Penn,"  he  said  in  the 
cars,  "  or  I  '11  take  'n'  break  this  checker-board 


282  "CAPTAINS    COURAGEOUS" 

over  your  head.  Ef  you  forgit  your  name 
agin  —  which  is  Pratt  —  you  remember  you 
belong  with  Salters  Troop,  an'  set  down  right 
where  you  are  till  I  come  fer  you.  Don't  go 
taggin*  araound  after  them  whose  eyes  bung 
out  with  fatness,  accordin'  to  Scripcher." 


CHAPTER   X 

BUT  it  was  otherwise  with  the  We  're 
Heres  silent  cook,  for  he  came  up,  his 
kit  in  a  handkerchief,  and  boarded  the  *'  Con- 
stance." Pay  was  no  particular  object,  and 
he  did  not  in  the  least  care  where  he  slept. 
His  business,  as  revealed  to  him  in  dreams, 
was  to  follow  Harvey  for  the  rest  of  his  days. 
They  tried  argument  and,  at  last,  persuasion  ; 
but  there  is  a  difference  between  one  Cape 
Breton  and  two  Alabama  negroes,  and  the 
matter  was  referred  to  Cheyne  by  the  cook 
and  porter.  The  millionaire  only  laughed. 
He  presumed  Harvey  might  need  a  body- 
servant  some  day  or  other,  and  was  sure  that 
one  volunteer  was  worth  five  hirelings.  Let 
the  man  stay,  therefore  ;  even  though  he  called 
himself  MacDonald  and  swore  in  Gaelic. 
The  car  could  go  back  to  Boston,  where,  if 
he  were  still  of  the  same  mind,  they  would 
take  him  West.  '^ 

283  « 


» 


284  '^CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

With  the  "  Constance,"  which  in  his  heart 
of  hearts  he  loathed,  departed  the  last  rem- 
nant of  Cheyne's  millionaircdom,  and  he  gave 
himself  up  to  an  energetic  idleness.  This 
Gloucester  was  a  new  town  in  a  new  land, 
and  he  purposed  to  "take  it  in,"  as  of  old  he 
had  taken  in  all  the  cities  from  Snohomish  to 
San  Dieofo  of  that  world  whence  he  hailed. 
They  made  money  along  the  crooked  street 
which  was  half  wharf  and  half  ship's  store: 
as  a  leading  professional  he  wished  to  learn 
how  the  noble  game  was  played.  Men  said 
that  four  out  of  every  five  fish-balls  served  at 
New  England's  Sunday  breakfast  came  from 
Gloucester,  and  overwhelmed  him  with  figures 
in  proof — statistics  of  boats,  gear,  wharf- 
frontage,  capital  invested,  salting,  packing, 
factories,  insurance,  wages,  repairs,  and  prof- 
its. He  talked  with  the  owners  of  the  large 
fleets  whose  skippers  were  little  more  than 
hired  men,  and  whose  crews  were  almost  all 
Swedes  or  Portuguese.  Then  he  conferred 
with  Disko,  one  of  the  few  who  owned  their 
craft,  and  compared  notes  in  his  vast  head. 
He  coiled  himself  away  on  chain-cables  in 
marine  junk-shops,  asking  questions  with 
cheerful,   unslaked  Western  curiosity,  till  all 


"CAPTAINS    COURAGEOUS"  285 

the  water-front  wanted  to  know  "what  in 
thunder  that  man  was  after,  anyhow."  He 
prowled  into  the  Mutual  Insurance  rooms, 
and  demanded  explanations  of  the  mysterious 
remarks  chalked  up  on  the  blackboard  day  by 
day  ;  and  that  brought  down  upon  him  secre- 
taries of  every  Fisherman's  Widow  and  Or- 
phan Aid  Society  within  the  city  limits.  They 
begged  shamelessly,  each  man  anxious  to  beat 
the  other  institution's  record,  and  Cheyne 
tugged  at  his  beard  and  handed  them  all  over 
to  Mrs.  Cheyne. 

She  was  resting  in  a  boarding-house  near 
Eastern  Point  —  a  strange  establishment, 
managed,  apparently,  by  the  boarders,  where 
the  table-cloths  were  red-and-white-check- 
ered,  and  the  population,  who  seemed  to 
have  known  one  another  intimately  for  years, 
rose  up  at  midnight  to  make  Welsh  rarebits 
if  it  felt  hungry.  On  the  second  morning  of 
her  stay  Mrs.  Cheyne  put  away  her  diamond 
solitaires  before  she  came  down  to  breakfast. 

"They  're  most  delightful  people,"  she  con- 
fided to  her  husband  ;  "  so  friendly  and  sim- 
ple, too,  though  they  are  all  Boston,  nearly." 

"That  is  n't  simpleness,  mama,"  he  said, 
looking  across  the  boulders  behind  the  apple- 


286  "CAPTAINS  COURAGEOUS" 

trees  where  the  hammocks  were  slung".      "  It 's 
the  other  thing,  that  we  —  that  I  have  n't  got." 

"  It  can't  be,"  said  Mrs.  Cheyne,  quietly. 
"There  is  n't  a  woman  here   owns  a  dress 
that  cost  a  hundred  dollars.     Why,  we — " 

"I  know  it,  dear.  We  have  —  of  course 
we  have.  I  guess  it  's  only  the  style  they 
wear  East.     Are  you  having  a  good  time  ?  " 

"  I  don't  see  very  much  of  Harvey ;  he  's 
always  with  you ;  but  I  ain't  near  as  nervous 
as  I  was." 

"/  have  n't  had  such  a  good  time  since 
Willie  died.  I  never  rightly  understood  that 
I  had  a  son  before  this.  Harve  's  got  to  be  a 
great  boy.  'Anything  I  can  fetch  you,  dear  ? 
'Cushion  under  your  head  ?  Well,  we  '11 
go  down  to  the  wharf  again  and  look 
around." 

Harvey  was  his  father's  shadow  in  those 
days,  and  the  two  strolled  along  side  by  .side, 
Cheyne  using  the  grades  as  an  excuse  for 
laying  his  hand  on  the  boy's  square  shoulder. 
It  was  then  that  Harvey  noticed  and  admired 
what  had  never  struck  him  before —  his  father's 
curious  power  of  getting  at  the  heart  of  new 
matters  as  learned  from  men  in  the  street. 

"  How  d'  you  make  'em  tell  you  everything 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  287 

without  Opening  your  head  ? "  demanded  the 
son,  as  they  came  out  of  a  rigger's  loft. 

"  I  've  dealt  with  quite  a  few  men  in  my 
time,  Harve,  and  one  sizes  'em  up  somehow, 
I  guess.  I  know  something  about  myself,  too." 
Then,  after  a  pause,  as  they  sat  down  on  a 
wharf-edge :  "  Men  can  'most  always  tell 
when  a  man  has  handled  things  for  himself, 
and  then  they  treat  him  as  one  of  themselves." 

"  Same  as  they  treat  me  down  at  Wouver- 
man's  wharf  I  'm  one  of  the  crowd  now. 
Disko  has  told  every  one  I  've  earned  my 
pay."  Harvey  spread  out  his  hands  and 
rubbed  the  palms  together.  "  They  're  all 
soft  again,"  he  said  dolefully. 

"  Keep  'em  that  way  for  the  next  few 
years,  while  you  're  getting  your  education. 
You  can  harden  'em  up  after." 

"  Ye-es,  I  suppose  so,"  was  the  reply,  in  no 
delighted  voice. 

"  It  rests  with  you,  Harve.  You  can  take 
cover  behind  your  mama,  of  course,  and  put 
her  on  to  fussing  about  your  nerves  and  your 
high-strungness  and  all  that  kind  of  poppy- 
cock." 

"Have  I  ever  done  that?"  said  Harvey, 
uneasily. 


288  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

His  father  turned  where  he  sat  and  thrust 
out  a  long  hand.  "  Yoti  know  as  well  as  1 
do  that  I  can't  make  anything  of  you  if  you 
don't  act  straight  by  me.  I  can  handle  you 
alone  if  you  '11  stay  alone,  but  I  don't  pre- 
tend to  manage  both  you  and  mama.  Life  's 
too  short,  anyway." 

**  Don't  make  me  out  much  of  a  fellow, 
does  it  ?  " 

"  I  guess  it  was  my  fault  a  good  deal ;  but 
if  you  want  the  truth,  you  have  n't  been  much 
of  anything  up  to  date.     Now,  have  you  ?  " 

**  Umm !  Disko  thinks  .  .  .  Say,  what 
d'  you  reckon  it  's  cost  you  to  raise  me  from 
the  start  —  first  last  and  all  over  ?  " 

Cheyne  smiled.  "  I  've  never  kept  track, 
but  I  should  estimate,  in  dollars  and  cents, 
nearer  fifty  than  forty  thousand  ;  maybe  sixty. 
The  young  generation  comes  high.  It  has 
to  have  things,  and  it  tires  of 'em,  and  —  the 
old  man  foots  the  bill." 

Harvey  whistled,  but  at  heart  he  was  rather 
pleased  to  think  that  his  upbringing  had  cost 
so  much.  **  And  all  that  's  sunk  capital, 
is  n't  it?" 

"  Invested,  Harve.     Invested,  I  hope." 

*'  Making  it  only  thirty  thousand,  the  thirty 


"  HIS    FATHER    TURNED    WHERE    HE    SAT    AND    THRUST    OUT    A 

LONG   HAND.        *  YOU  KNOW   AS   WELL  AS   I   DO   THAT   I 

can't    MAKE    ANYTHING    OF    YOU    'F    YOU 

don't   ACT   STRAIGHT   BY   ME.     ' 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  291 

I  've  earned  is  about  ten  cents  on  the  hun- 
dred. That 's  a  mighty  poor  catch."  Harvey 
wagged  his  head  solemnly. 

Cheyne  laughed  till  he  nearly  fell  off  the 
pile  into  the  water. 

"  Disko  has  got  a  heap  more  than  that  out 
of  Dan  since  he  was  ten  ;  and  Dan  's  at  school 
half  the  year,  too." 

*'  Oh,  that 's  what  you  're  after,  is  it  ?" 

"  No.  I  'm  not  after  anything.  I  'm  not 
stuck  on  myself  any  just  now  —  that  's 
all.     ...     I    ought   to    be    kicked." 

"  I  can't  do  it,  old  man  ;  or  I  would,  I  pre- 
sume, if  I  'd  been  made  that  way." 
.   "  Then  I  'd  have  remembered  it  to  the  last 
day   I   lived — and  7ie'uer  forgiven   you,"   said 
Harvey,  his  chin  on  his  doubled  fists. 

"Exactly.  That's  about  what  I'd  do. 
You  see?" 

"  I  see.  The  fault 's  with  me  and  no  one 
else.  All  the  samey,  something's  got  to  be 
done  about  it." 

Cheyne  drew  a  cigar  from  his  vest-pocket, 
bit  off  the  end,  and  fell  to  smoking.  Father 
and  son  were  very  much  alike  ;  for  the  beard 
hid  Cheyne's  mouth,  and  Harvey  had  his 
father's  slightly  aquiline  nose,  close-set  black 


292  "CAPTAINS    COURAGEOUS" 

eyes,  and  narrow,  high  cheek-bones.  With 
a  touch  of  brown  paint  he  would  have  made 
up  very  picturesquely  as  a  Red  Indian  of  the 
story-books. 

"  Now  you  can  go  on  from  here,"  said 
Cheyne,  slowly,  "costing  me  between  six  or 
eight  thousand  a  year  till  you  're  a  voter. 
Well,  we  '11  call  you  a  man  then.  You  can 
go  right  on  from  that,  living  on  me  to  the 
tune  of  forty  or  fifty  thousand,  besides  what 
your  mother  will  give  you,  with  a  valet  and  a 
yacht  or  a  fancy-ranch  where  you  can  pre- 
tend to  raise  trotting-stock  and  play  cards 
with  your  own  crowd." 

"Like  Lorry  Tuck?"  Harvey  put  in. 

"Yep;  or  the  two  De  Vitre  boys  or  old  man 
McQuade's  son.  California's  full  of 'em,  and 
here 's  an  Eastern  sample  while  we  're  talking." 

A  shiny  black  steam-yacht,  with  mahog- 
any deck-house,  nickel-plated  binnacles,  and 
pink-and-white-striped  awnings,  puffed  up  the 
harbor,  flying  the  burgee  of  some  New  York 
club.  Two  young  men  in  what  they  con- 
ceived to  be  sea  costumes  were  playing  cards 
by  the  saloon  skylight;  and  a  couple  of  women 
with  red  and  blue  parasols  looked  on  and 
laughed  noisily. 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  293 

"Should  n't  care  to  be  caught  out  in  her 
in  any  sort  of  a  breeze.  No  beam,"  said  Har- 
vey, critically,  as  the  yacht  slowed  to  pick  up 
her  mooring-buoy. 

"  They  're  having  what  stands  them  for  a 
good  time.  I  can  give  you  that,  and  twice  as 
much  as  that,   Harve.      How  'd  you  like  it?" 

"  Caesar !  That 's  no  way  to  get  a  dinghy 
overside,"  said  Harvey,  still  intent  on  the 
yacht.  "  If  I  could  n't  slip  a  tackle  better 
than  that  I  'd  stay  ashore.  .  .  .  What  if  I 
don't?" 

*'  Sta)/-  ashore  —  or  what  ?  " 

"Yacht  and  ranch  and  live  on  'the  old 
man,'  and — get  behind  mama  when  there  's 
trouble,"  said  Harvey,  with  a  twinkle  in  his 
eye. 

"  Why,  in  that  case,  you  come  right  in  with 
me,  my  son." 

**  Ten  dollars  a  month  ?  "    Another  twinkle. 

"  Not  a  cent  more  until  you  're  worth  it, 
and  you  won't  begin  to  touch  that  for  a  few 
years." 

*'  I  'd  sooner  begin  sweeping  out  the  office 
—  is  n't  that  how  the  big  bugs  start? — and 
touch  something  now  than  —  " 

"I  know  it;  we  all  feel  that  way.     But  I 


294  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

guess  we  can  hire  any  sweeping  we  need.  I 
made  the  same  mistake  myself  of  starting  in 
too  soon." 

"Thirty  million  dollars'  worth  o'  mistake, 
was  n't  it  ?     I  'd  risk  it  for  that." 

'*  I  lost  some ;  and  I  gained  some.  I  '11 
tell  you." 

Cheyne  pulled  his  beard  and  smiled  as  he 
looked  over  the  still  water,  and  spoke  away 
from  Harvey,  who  presently  began  to  be 
aware  that  his  father  was  telling  the  story  of 
his  life.  He  talked  in  a  low,  even  voice, 
without  gesture  and  without  expression  ;  and 
it  was  a  history  for  which  a  dozen  leading 
journals  would  cheerfully  have  paid  many 
dollars  —  the  story  of  forty  years  that  was 
at  the  same  time  the  story  of  the  New  West, 
whose  story  is  yet  to  be  written. 

It  began  with  a  kinless  boy  turned  loose  in 
Texas,  and  went  on  fantastically  through  a 
hundred  changes  and  chops  of  life,  the  scenes 
shifting  from  State  after  Western  State,  from 
cities  that  sprang  up  in  a  month  and  in  a 
season  utterly  withered  away,  to  wild  ven- 
tures in  wilder  camps  that  are  now  laborious, 
paved  municipalities.  It  covered  the  building 
of  three  railroads  and  the  deliberate  wreck  of 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  295 

a  fourth.  It  told  of  steamers,  townships,  for- 
ests, and  mines,  and  the  men  of  every  nation 
under  heaven,  manning,  creating,  hewing,  and 
digging  these.  It  touched  on  chances  of  gi- 
gantic wealth  flung  before  eyes  that  could 
not  see,  or  missed  by  the  merest  accident  of 
time  and  travel ;  and  through  the  mad  shift 
of  things,  sometimes  on  horseback,  more  of- 
ten afoot,  now  rich,  now  poor,  in  and  out, 
and  back  and  forth,  deck-hand,  train-hand, 
contractor,  boarding-house  keeper,  journalist, 
engineer,  drummer,  real-estate  agent,  politi- 
cian, dead-beat,  rum-seller,  mine-owner,  spec- 
ulator, cattle-man,  or  tramp,  moved  Harvey 
Cheyne,  alert  and  quiet,  seeking  his  own 
ends,  and,  so  he  said,  the  glory  and  advance- 
ment of  his  country. 

He  told  of  the  faith  that  never  deserted 
him  even  when  he  hung  on  the  ragged  edge 
of  despair  —  the  faith  that  comes  of  knowing 
men  and  things.  He  enlarged,  as  though  he 
were  talking  to  himself,  on  his  very  great 
courage  and  resource  at  all  times.  The 
thing  was  so  evident  in  the  man's  mind  that 
he  never  even  changed  his  tone.  He  de- 
scribed how  he  had  bested  his  enemies,  or 
forgiven  them,  exactly  as  they  had  bested  or 


296  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

forgiven  him  in  those  careless  days ;  how  he 
had  entreated,  cajoled,  and  bullied  towns, 
companies,  and  syndicates,  all  for  their  endur- 
ing good;  crawled  round,  through,  or  under 
mountains  and  ravines,  dragging  a  string  and 
hoop-iron  railroad  after  him,  and  in  the  end, 
how  he  had  sat  still  while  promiscuous  com- 
munities tore  the  last  fragments  of  his  char- 
acter to  shreds. 

The  tale  held  Harvey  almost  breathless, 
his  head  a  little  cocked  to  one  side,  his  eyes 
fixed  on  his  father's  face,  as  the  twilight 
deepened  and  the  red  cigar-end  lit  up  the 
furrowed  cheeks  and  heavy  eyebrows.  It 
seemed  to  him  like  watching  a  locomotive 
storming  across  country  in  the  dark  —  a  mile 
between  each  glare  of  the  opened  fire-door : 
but  this  locomotive  could  talk,  and  the  words 
shook  and  stirred  the  boy  to  the  core  of  his 
soul.  At  last  Cheyne  pitched  away  the  cigar- 
butt,  and  the  two  sat  in  the  dark  over  the 
lapping  water. 

"  I  Ve  never  told  that  to  any  one  before," 
said  the  father. 

Harvey  gasped.  **  It  's  just  the  greatest 
thing  that  ever  was !  "  said  he. 

•*  That  's  what  I  got.     Now  I  'm  coming  to 


"  CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS  "  297 

what  I  did  n't  get.  It  won't  sound  much  of 
anything  to  you,  but  I  don't  wish  you  to  be 
as  old  as  I  am  before  you  find  out.  I  can 
handle  men,  of  course,  and  I  'm  no  fool  along 
my  own  lines,  but  —  but — I  can't  compete 
with  the  man  who  has  been  taught!  I  've 
picked  up  as  I  went  along,  and  I  guess  it 
sticks  out  all  over  me." 

"I  've  never  seen  it,"  said  the  son,  indig- 
nantly. 

"You  will,  though,  Harve.  You  will — just 
as  soon  as  you  're  through  college.  Don't  I 
know  it?  Don't  I  know  the  look  on  men's 
faces  when  they  think  me  a  —  a  'mucker,'  as 
they  call  it  out  here  ?  I  can  break  them  to 
little  pieces  —  yes  —  but  I  can't  get  back  at 
'em  to  hurt  'em  where  they  live.  I  don't  say 
they  're  'way  'way  up,  but  I  feel  I  'm  'way, 
'way,  'way  off,  somehow.  Now  yoit  've  got 
your  chance.  You  've  got  to  soak  up  all  the 
learning  that  's  around,  and  you  '11  live  with 
a  crowd  that  are  doing  the  same  thing. 
They  '11  be  doing  it  for  a  few  thousand  dol- 
lars a  year  at  most ;  but  remember  you  'II 
be  doing  it  for  millions.  You  '11  learn  law 
enough  to  look  after  your  own  property 
when  I  'm  out  o'  the  light,  and  you  '11  have 


298  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

to  be  solid  with  the  best  men  in  the  market 
(they  are  useful  later) ;  and  above  all,  you  '11 
have  to  stow  away  the  plain,  common,  sit- 
down-with-your-chin-on-your-elbows  book- 
learning.  Nothing  pays  like  that,  Harve, 
and  it  *s  bound  to  pay  more  and  more  each 
year  in  our  country  —  in  business  and  in  pol- 
itics.    You  '11  see." 

"  There  *s  no  sugar  my  end  of  the  deal," 
said  Harvey.  "  Four  years  at  college  1  'Wish 
I  'd  chosen  the  valet  and  the  yacht ! " 

"  Never  mind,  my  son,"  Cheyne  insisted. 
"You  *re  investing  your  capital  where  it  '11 
bring  in  the  best  returns;  and  I  guess  you 
won't  find  our  property  shrunk  any  when 
you  *re  ready  to  take  hold.  Think  it  over, 
and  let  me  know  in  the  morning.  Hurry! 
We  *11  be  late  for  supper ! " 

As  this  was  a  business  talk,  there  was  no 
need  for  Harvey  to  tell  his  mother  about  it; 
and  Cheyne  naturally  took  the  same  point  of 
view.  But  Mrs.  Cheyne  saw  and  feared,  and 
was  a  little  jealous.  Her  boy,  who  rode 
rough -shod  over  her,  was  gone,  and  in  his 
stead  reigned  a  keen-faced  youth,  abnormally 
silent,  who  addressed  most  of  his  conversa- 
tion to   his  father.     She   understood   it  was 


"CAPTAINS  COURAGEOUS"  299 

business,  and  therefore  a  matter  beyond  her 
premises.  If  she  had  any  doubts,  they  were 
resolved  when  Cheyne  went  to  Boston  and 
brought  back  a  new  diamond  marquise-ring. 

**  What  have  you  two  men  been  doing 
now  ?  "  she  said,  with  a  weak  little  smile,  as 
she  turned  it  in  the  light. 

"Talking — just  talking,  mama;  there  *s 
nothing  mean   about    Harvey." 

There  was  not.  The  boy  had  made  a  treaty 
on  his  own  account.  Railroads,  he  explained 
gravely,  interested  him  as  little  as  lumber, 
real  estate,  or  mining.  What  his  soul  yearned 
after  was  control  of  his  father's  newly  pur- 
chased sailing-ships.  If  that  could  be  prom- 
ised him  within  what  he  conceived  to  be  a 
reasonable  time,  he,  for  his  part,  guaranteed 
diligence  and  sobriety  at  college  for  four  or 
five  years.  In  vacation  he  was  to  be  allowed 
full  access  to  all  details  connected  with  the 
line  —  he  had  asked  not  more  than  two  thou- 
sand questions  about  it, —  from  his  father's 
most  private  papers  in  the  safe  to  the  tug  in 
San  Francisco  harbor. 

**  It  's  a  deal,"  said  Cheyne  at  the  last. 
"You  '11  alter  your  mind  twenty  times  before 
you  leave  college,  o*  course;  but  if  you  take 


300  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

hold  of  it  in  proper  shape,  and  if  you  don't 
tie  it  up  before  you  're  twenty-three,  I  '11 
make  the  thing  over  to  you.  How  's  that, 
Harve?" 

"Nope;  never  pays  to  split  up  a  going 
concern.  There  's  too  much  competition  in 
the  world  anyway,  and  Disko  says  '  blood-kin 
hev  to  stick  together.'  His  crowd  never  go 
back  on  him.  That  's  one  reason,  he  says, 
why  they  make  such  big  fares.  Say,  the 
We  'r^  Here  goes  off  to  the  Georges  on  Mon- 
day.    They  don't  stay  long  ashore,  do  they?" 

*'  Well,  we  ought  to  be  going,  too,  I  guess. 
I  've  left  my  business  hung  up  at  loose  ends 
between  two  oceans,  and  It  's  time  to  connect 
again.  I  just  hate  to  do  it,  though ;  have  n't 
had  a  holiday  like  this  for  twenty  years." 

*'  We  cant  go  without  seeing  Disko  off," 
said  Harvey ;  "  and  Monday  's  Memorial  Day. 
Let  's  stay  over  that,  anyway." 

"What  is  this  memorial  business?  They 
were  talking  about  it  at  the  boarding-house," 
said  Cheyne,  weakly.  He,  too,  was  not  anx- 
ious to  spoil  the  golden  days. 

**  Well,  as  far  as  I  can  make  out,  this  busi- 
ness is  a  sort  of  song-and-dance  act,  whacked 
up  for  the   summer  boarders.     Disko    don't 


"CAPTAINS  COURAGEOUS"  301 

think  much  of  it,  he  says,  because  they  take 
up  a  collection  for  the  widows  and  orphans. 
Disko  's  independent.  Have  n't  you  noticed 
that?" 

"Well  —  yes.  A  little.  In  spots.  Is  it  a 
town  show,  then  ?  " 

"The  summer  convention  is.  They  read 
out  the  names  of  the  fellows  drowned  or  gone 
astray  since  last  time,  and  they  make  speeches, 
and  recite,  and  all.  Then,  Disko  says,  the  sec- 
retaries of  the  Aid  Societies  go  into  the  back- 
yard and  fight  over  the  catch.  The  real  show, 
he  says,  is  in  the  spring.  The  ministers  all 
take  a  hand  then,  and  there  are  n't  any  sum- 
mer boarders  around." 

"  I  see,"  said  Cheyne,  with  the  brilliant 
and  perfect  comprehension  of  one  born  into 
and  bred  up  to  city  pride.  **  We  '11  stay 
over  for  Memorial  Day,  and  get  off  in  the 
afternoon." 

"  Guess  I  '11  go  down  to  Disko's  and  make 
him  bring  his  crowd  up  before  they  sail.  I  '11 
have  to  stand  with  them,  of  course." 

**  Oh,  that  's  it,  is  it,"  said  Cheyne.  "  I  'm 
only  a  poor  summer  boarder,  and  you  're  —  " 

'*A  Banker  — full-blooded  Banker,"  Har- 
vey called  back  as  he  boarded  a  trolley,  and 


302  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

Cheyne  went  on  with  his  bhssful  dreams  for 
the  future. 

Disko  had  no  use  for  public  functions  where 
appeals  were  made  for  charity,  but  Harvey 
pleaded  that  the  glory  of  the  day  would  be 
lost,  so  far  as  he  was  concerned,  if  the  We  're 
Hercs  absented  themselves.  Then  Disko 
made  conditions.  He  had  heard  —  it  was 
astonishing  how  all  the  world  knew  all  the 
world's  business  along  the  water-front  —  he 
had  heard  that  a  "  Philadelphia  actress- 
woman  "  was  going  to  take  part  in  the  ex- 
ercises ;  and  he  mistrusted  that  she  would 
deliver  "Skipper  Ireson's  Ride."  Person- 
ally, he  had  as  little  use  for  actresses  as  for 
summer  boarders ;  but  justice  was  justice,  and 
though  he  himself  (here  Dan  giggled)  had 
once  slipped  up  on  a  matter  of  judgment, 
this  thing  must  not  be  So  Harvey  came 
back  to  East  Gloucester,  and  spent  half  a 
day  explaining  to  an  amused  actress  with  a 
royal  reputation  on  two  seaboards  the  inward- 
ness of  the  mistake  she  contemplated ;  and 
she  admitted  that  it  was  justice,  even  as  Disko 
had  said. 

Cheyne  knew  by  old  experience  what  would 
happen  ;  but  anything  of  the  nature  of  a  pub- 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  303 

lie  palaver  was  meat  and  drink  to  the  man's 
soul.  He  saw  the  trolleys  hurrying  west,  in 
the  hot,  hazy  morning,  full  of  women  in  light 
summer  dresses,  and  white-faced  straw-hatted 
men  fresh  from  Boston  desks ;  the  stack  of 
bicycles  outside  the  post-office ;  the  come- 
and-go  of  busy  officials,  greeting  one  another ; 
the  slow  flick  and  swash  of  bunting  in  the 
heavy  air;  and  the  important  man  with  a  hose 
sluicing  the  brick  sidewalk. 

"Mother,"  he  said  suddenly,  "don't  you 
remember  —  after  Seattle  was  burned  out  — 
and  they  got  her  going  again  ? " 

Mrs.  Cheyne  nodded,  and  looked  critically 
down  the  crooked  street.  Like  her  husband, 
she  understood  these  gatherings,  all  the  West 
over,  and  compared  them  one  against  another. 
The  fishermen  began  to  mingle  with  the 
crowd  about  the  town-hall  doors  —  blue- 
jowled  Portuguese,  their  women  bare-headed 
or  shawled  for  the  most  part ;  clear-eyed  Nova 
Scotians,  and  men  of  the  Maritime  Provinces; 
French,  Italians,  Swedes,  and  Danes,  with 
outside  crews  of  coasting  schooners ;  and 
everywhere  women  in  black,  who  saluted  one 
another  with  a  gloomy  pride,  for  this  was 
their  day  of  great  days.      And  there  were 


304  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

ministers  of  many  creeds, —  pastors  of  great, 
gilt-edged  congregations,  at  the  seaside  for 
a  rest,  with  shepherds  of  the  regular  work, — 
from  the  priests  of  the  Church  on  the  Hill  to 
bush-bearded  ex-sailor  Lutherans,  hail-fellow 
with  the  men  of  a  score  of  boats.  There  were 
owners  of  lines  of  schooners,  large  contribu- 
tors to  the  societies,  and  small  men,  their  few 
craft  pawned  to  the  mastheads,  with  bankers 
and  marine-insurance  agents,  captains  of  tugs 
and  water-bbats,  riggers,  fitters,  lumpers,  salt- 
ers,  boat-builders,  and  coopers,  and  all  the 
mixed  population  of  the  water-front. 

They  drifted  along  the  line  of  seats  made 
gay  with  the  dresses  of  the  summer  boarders, 
and  one  of  the  town  officials  patrolled  and 
perspired  till  he  shone  all  over  with  pure  civic 
pride.  Cheyne  had  met  him  for  five  minutes 
a  few  days  before,  and  between  the  two  there 
was  entire  understandino:. 

"  Well,  Mr.  Cheyne,  and  what  d'  you  think 
of  our  city?  —  Yes,  madam,  you  can  sit  any- 
where you  please. — You  have  this  kind  of 
thing  out  West,  I  presume  ?  " 

"  Yes,  but  we  are  n't  as  old  as  you." 

"That  *s  so,  of  course.  You  ought  to  have 
been  at  the  exercises  when  we  celebrated  our 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  305 

two  hundred  and  fiftieth  birthday.  I  tell  you, 
Mr.  Cheyne,  the  old  city  did  herself  credit." 

"  So  I  heard.  It  pays,  too.  What  's  the 
matter  with  the  town  that  it  don't  have  a  first- 
class  hotel,  though  ?  " 

'•—Right  over  there  to  the  left,  Pedro. 
Heaps  o'  room  for  you  and  your  crowd. — 
Why,  that 's  what  /  tell  'em  all  the  time,  Mr. 
Cheyne.  There  's  big  money  in  it,  but  I  pre- 
sume that  don't  affect  you  any.  What  we 
want  is — *' 

A  heavy  hand  fell  on  his  broadcloth  shoul- 
der, and  the  flushed  skipper  of  a  Portland 
coal-and-ice  coaster  spun  him  half  round. 
•'  What  in  thunder  do  you  fellows  mean  by 
clappin'  the  law  on  the  town  when  all  decent 
men  are  at  sea  this  way?  Heh?  Town  's 
dry  's  a  bone,  an'  smells  a  sight  worse  sence 
I  quit.  'Might  ha'  left  us  one  saloon  for  soft 
drinks,  anyway." 

*'  'Don't  seem  to  have  hindered  your  nour- 
ishment this  morning,  Carsen.  I  '11  go  into 
the  politics  of  it  later.  Sit  down  by  the  door 
and  think  over  your  arguments  till  I  come 
back." 

"  What  good  's  arguments  to  me  ?  In  Mi- 
quelon  champagne  's  eighteen  dollars  a  case, 


3o6  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

and — "  The  skipper  lurched  into  his  seat  as 
an  organ-prelude  silenced  him. 

"Our  new  organ,"  said  the  official  proudly 
to  Cheyne.  "  'Cost  us  four  thousand  dollars, 
too.  We  '11  have  to  get  back  to  high-license 
next  year  to  pay  for  it.  I  was  n't  going  to 
let  the  ministers  have  all  the  religion  at  their 
convention.  Those  are  some  of  our  orphans 
standing  up  to  sing.  My  wife  taught  'em. 
See  you  again  later,  Mr.  Cheyne.  I  'm 
wanted  on  the  platform." 

High,  clear,  and  true,  children's  voices  bore 
down  the  last  noise  of  those  settling  into  their 
places. 

**  O  all  ye  Works  of  the  Loj^d^  bless  ye  the 
Lord:  praise  hiiiiy  and  magnify  him  for  ever/'* 

The  women  throughout  the  hall  leaned  for- 
ward to  look  as  the  reiterated  cadences  filled 
the  air.  Mrs.  Cheyne,  with  some  others,  be- 
gan to  breathe  short;  she  had  hardly  ima- 
gined there  were  so  many  widows  in  the 
world;  and  instinctively  searched  for  Harvey. 
He  had  found  the  We  'r^  Heres  at  the  back 
of  the  audience,  and  was  standing,  as  by  right, 
between  Dan  and  Disko.  Uncle  Salters, 
returned  the  night  before  with  Penn,  from 
Pamlico  Sound,  received  him  suspiciously. 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  307 

**  Hain't  your  folk  gone  yet?"  he  grunted. 
"  What  are  you  doin'  here,  young  feller?" 

*'  O  ye  Seas  and  Floods^  bless  ye  the  Lord: 
praise  him^  and  magnify  him  for  ever!  " 

"  Hain't  he  good  right  ?  "  said  Dan.  "  He  *s 
bin  there,  same  as  the  rest  of  us." 

•*  Not  in  them  clothes,"  Salters  snarled. 

"Shut  your  head,  Salters,"  said  Disko. 
"  Your  bile  's  gone  back  on  you.  Stay  right 
where  ye  are,  Harve." 

Then  up  and  spoke  the  orator  of  the  occa- 
sion, another  pillar  of  the  municipality,  bid- 
ding the  world  welcome  to  Gloucester,  and 
incidentally  pointing  out  wherein  Gloucester 
excelled  the  rest  of  the  world.  Then  he  turned 
to  the  sea-wealth  of  the  city,  and  spoke  of  the 
price  that  must  be  paid  for  the  yearly  harvest. 
They  would  hear  later  the  names  of  their  lost 
dead  —  one  hundred  and  seventeen  of  them. 
(The  widows  stared  a  little,  and  looked  at 
one  another  here.)  Gloucester  could  not  boast 
any  overwhelming  mills  or  factories.  Her 
sons  worked  for  such  wage  as  the  sea  gave ; 
and  they  all  knew  that  neither  Georges  nor 
the  Banks  were  cow-pastures.  The  utmost 
that  folk  ashore  could  accomplish  was  to  help 
the  widows  and  the  orphans ;  and  after  a  few 


3o8  "CAPTAINS  COURAGEOUS" 

general  remarks  he  took  this  opportunity  of 
thanking-,  in  the  name  of  the  city,  those  who 
had  so  public-spiritedly  consented  to  partici- 
pate in  the  exercises  of  the  occasion. 

"  I  jest  despise  the  beggin'  pieces  in  it," 
growled  Disko.  "  It  don't  give  folk  a  fair 
notion  of  us.'* 

'•  Ef  folk  won't  be  fore-handed  an*  put  by 
when  they  *ve  the  chance,"  returned  Salters, 
**  it  stands  in  the  nature  o'  things  they  hev 
to  be  'shamed.  You  take  warnin*  by  that, 
young  feller.  Riches  endureth  but  for  a 
season,  ef  you  scatter  them  araound  on 
lugsuries  —  *' 

"But  to  lose  everything  —  everything," 
said  Penn.  "What  can  you  do  then?  Once 
I " — the  watery  blue  eyes  stared  up  and  down, 
as  looking  for  something  to  steady  them  — 
"  once  I  read  —  in  a  book,  I  think  —  of  a  boat 
where  every  one  was  run  down  —  except  some 
one  —  and  he  said  to  me — " 

"  Shucks !  "  said  Salters,  cutting  in.  "  You 
read  a  little  less  an'  take  more  int'rust  in  your 
vittles,  and  you  '11  come  nearer  earnin'  your 
keep,  Penn." 

Harvey,  jammed  among  the  fishermen,  felt 
a  creepy,  crawly,  tingling  thrill  that  began  in 


"CAPTAINS  COURAGEOUS"  309 

the  back  of  his  neck  and  ended  at  his  boots. 
He  was  cold,  too,  though  it  was  a  stifling  day. 

"'That  the  actress  from  Philadelphia?" 
said  Disko  Troop,  scowling  at  the  platform. 
*'  You  *ve  fixed  it  about  old  man  Ireson,  hain't 
ye,  Harve?     Ye  know  why  naow." 

It  was  not  "  Ireson's  Ride  "  that  the  woman 
delivered,  but  some  sort  of  poem  about  a  fish- 
ing-port called  Brixham  and  a  fleet  of  trawl- 
ers beating  in  against  storm  by  night,  while 
the  women  made  a  guiding  fire  at  the  head 
of  the  quay  with  everything  they  could  lay 
hands  on. 

"  They  took  the  grandam's  blanket, 
Who  shivered  and  bade  them  go ; 
They  took  the  baby's  cradle, 
Who  could  not  say  them  no." 

"Whew!"  said  Dan,  peering  over  Long 
Jack's  shoulder.  "  That  's  great !  Must  ha' 
bin  expensive,  though." 

"  Ground-hog  case,"  said  the  Galway  man. 
"  Badly  lighted  port,  Danny." 


"  And  knew  not  all  the  while 
If  they  were  lighting  a  bonfire 
Or  only  a  funeral  pile." 


3IO  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

The  wonderful  voice  took  hold  of  people 
by  their  heartstrings ;  and  when  she  told  how 
the  drenched  crews  were  flung"  ashore,  living 
and  dead,  and  they  carried  the  bodies  to 
the  glare  of  the  fires,  asking :  "  Child,  is 
this  your  father?"  or  "Wife,  is  this  your 
man  ? "  you  could  hear  hard  breathing  all 
over  the  benches. 

"  And  when  the  boats  of  Brixham 
Go  out  to  face  the  gales, 
Think  of  the  love  that  travels 
Like  light  upon  their  sails ! " 

There  was  very  little  applause  when  she 
finished.  The  women  were  looking  for  their 
handkerchiefs,  and  many  of  the  men  stared  at 
the  ceiling  with  shiny  eyes. 

"  H'm,"  said  Salters ;  "that  'u'd  cost  ye  a 
dollar  to  hear  at  any  theater  —  maybe  two. 
Some  folk,  I  presoom,  can  afford  it.  'Seems 
downright  waste  to  me.  .  .  .  Naow,  how  in 
Jerusalem  did  Cap  Bart  Edwardes  strike 
adrift  here  ? " 

**  No  keepin'  him  under,"  said  an  Eastport 
man  behind.  "  He  's  a  poet,  an'  he  's  baound 
to  say  his  piece.  'Comes  from  daown  aour 
way,  too." 


•       "CAPTAINS    COURAGEOUS"  311 

He  did  not  say  that  Captain  B.  Edwardes 
had  striven  for  five  consecutive  years  to  be 
allowed  to  recite  a  piece  of  his  own  com- 
position on  Gloucester  Memorial  Day.  An 
amused  and  exhausted  committee  had  at  last 
given  him  his  desire.  The  simplicity  and  ut- 
ter happiness  of  the  old  man,  as  he  stood  up 
in  his  very  best  Sunday  clothes,  won  the  au- 
dience ere  he  opened  his  mouth.  They  sat  un- 
murmuring through  seven-and-thirty  hatchet- 
made  verses  describing  at  fullest  length  the 
loss  of  the  schooner  Joari  Hasken  off  the 
Georges  in  the  gale  of  1867,  and  when  he 
came  to  an  end  they  shouted  with  one  kindly 
throat. 

A  far-sighted  Boston  reporter  slid  away 
for  a  full  copy  of  the  epic  and  an  interview 
with  the  author;  so  that  earth  had  noth- 
ing more  to  offer  Captain  Bart  Edwardes, 
ex-whaler,  shipwright,  master-fisherman,  and 
poet,  in  the  seventy-third  year  of  his  age. 

"  Naow,  I  call  that  sensible,"  said  the  East- 
port  man.  **I  've  bin  over  that  graound  with 
his  writin',  jest  as  he  read  it,  in  my  two  hands, 
and  I  can  testify  that  he  's  got  it  all  in." 

*' If  Dan  here  could  n't  do  better  'n  that 
with  one  hand  before  breakfast,  he  ought  to  be 


312  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

switched,"  said  Salters,  upholding  the  honor 
of  Massachusetts  on  general  principles,  "  Not 
but  what  I  'm  free  to  own  he  's  considerable 
littery  —  fer  Maine.     Still  —  " 

'*  Guess  Uncle  Salters  goin'  to  die  this  trip. 
Fust  compliment  he  's  ever  paid  me,"  Dan 
sniggered,  "  What 's  wrong  with  you,  Harve? 
You  act  all  quiet  and  you  look  greenish. 
Feelin'  sick  ? " 

"  Don't  know  what  's  the  matter  with  me," 
Harvey  replied.  "  'Seems  if  my  insides  were 
too  big  for  my  outsides,  I  'm  all  crowded  up 
and  shivery." 

"Dispepsy?  Pshaw  —  too  bad.  We  '11 
wait  for  the  readin',  an'  then  we  '11  quit,  an' 
catch  the  tide," 

The  widows  —  they  were  nearly  all  of 
that  season's  making — braced  themselves 
rigidly  like  people  going  to  be  shot  in  cold 
blood,  for  they  knew  what  was  coming.  The 
summer-boarder  girls  in  pink  and  blue  shirt- 
waists stopped  tittering  over  Captain  Ed- 
wardes's  wonderful  poem,  and  looked  back  to 
see  why  all  was  silent.  The  fishermen  pressed 
forward  as  that  town  official  who  had  talked 
with  Cheyne  bobbed  up  on  the  platform  and 
began  to  read  the  year's  list  of  losses,  dividing 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  313 

them  into  months.  Last  September's  casual- 
ties were  mostly  single  men  and  strangers, 
but  his  voice  rang  very  loud  in  the  stillness 
of  the  hall. 

•*  September  9th.  —  Schooner  Florrie  Anderson  lost,  with 
all  aboard,  off  the  Georges. 

"  Reuben  Pitman,  master,  50,  single.  Main  Street,  City. 

"Emil  Olsen,  19,  single,  329  Hammond  Street,  City- 
Denmark. 

"Oscar  Stanberg,  single,  25,  Sweden. 

"  Carl  Stanberg,  single,  28,  Main  Street,  City. 

"  Pedro,  supposed  Madeira,  single,  Keene's  boarding- 
house,  City. 

"Joseph  Welsh,  alias  Joseph  Wright,  30,  St.  John's, 
Newfoundland." 


"  No — Augusty,  Maine,"  a  voice  cried  from 
the  body  of  the  hall. 

"  He  shipped  from  St.  John's,"  said  the 
reader,  looking  to  see. 

"  I  know  it.  He  belongs  in  Augusty. 
My  nevvy." 

The  reader  made  a  penciled  correction  on 
the  margin  of  the  list,  and  resumed : 

"Same  schooner,  Charlie  Ritchie,  Liverpool,  Nova 
Scotia,  33,  single. 

"Albert  May,  267  Rogers  Street,  City,  27,  single. 


314  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

"September  27th. —  Orvin  DoUard,  30,  married,  drowned 
in  dory  off  Eastern  Point." 

That  shot  went  home,  for  one  of  the  widows 
flinched  where  she  sat,  clasping  and  unclasp- 
ing her  hands.  Mrs.  Cheyne,  who  had  been 
listening  with  wide-opened  eyes,  threw  up  her 
head  and  choked.  Dan's  mother,  a  few  seats 
to  the  right,  saw  and  heard  and  quickly  moved 
to  her  side.  The  reading  went  on.  By  the 
time  they  reached  the  January  and  February 
wrecks  the  shots  were  falling  thick  and  fast, 
and  the  widows  drew  breath  between  their 
teeth. 

"  February  14th. — Schooner  Harry  Randolph  dismasted 
on  the  way  home  from  Newfoundland ;  Asa  Musie,  mar- 
ried, 32,  Main  Street,  City,  lost  overboard. 

"February  23d. — Schooner  Gilbert  Hope ;  went  astray 
in  dory,  Robert  Beavon,  29,  married,  native  of  Pubnico, 
Nova  Scotia." 

But  his  wife  was  in  the  hall.  They  heard 
a  low  cry,  as  though  a  little  animal  had  been 
hit.  It  was  stifled  at  once,  and  a  girl  stag- 
gered out  of  the  hall.  She  had  been  hoping 
against  hope  for  months,  because  some  who 
have  gone  adrift  in  dories  have  been  miracu- 
lously picked  up   by  deep-sea  sailing-ships. 


"CAPTAINS  COURAGEOUS"  315 

Now  she  had  her  certainty,  and  Harvey  could 
see  the  policeman  on  the  sidewalk  hailing  a 
hack  for  her.  "  It  's  fifty  cents  to  the  depot" — 
the  driver  began,  but  the  policeman  held 
up  his  hand  —  "  but  I  'm  goin'  there  anyway. 
Jump  right  in.  Look  at  here,  Alf ;  you  don't 
pull  me  next  time  my  lamps  ain't  lit.  See  ?  " 
The  side-door  closed  on  the  patch  of  bright 
sunshine,  and  Harvey's  eyes  turned  again  to 
the  reader  and  his  endless  list. 

"April  19th. — Schooner  Mamie  Douglas  lost  on  the 
Banks  with  all  hands. 

"  Edward  Canton,  43,  master,  married,  City. 

"  D.  Hawkins,  alias  Williams,  34,  married,  Shelbourne, 
Nova  Scotia. 

"  G.  W.  Clay,  colored,  28,  married.  City." 

And  SO  on,  and  so  on.  Great  lumps  were 
rising  in  Harvey's  throat,  and  his  stomach 
reminded  him  of  the  day  when  he  fell  from 
the  liner. 

"  May  loth. — Schooner  We  V<f  Here  [the  blood  tingled 
all  over  him].  Otto  Svendson,  20,  single,  City,  lost  over- 
board." 

Once  more  a  low,  tearing  cry  from  some- 
where at  the  back  of  the  hall. 


3ib  "CAPTAINS  COURAGEOUS" 

"  She  should  n't  ha'  come.  She  should  n't 
ha'  come,"  said  Long  Jack,  with  a  cluck  of 
pity. 

**  Don't  scrowge,  Harve,"  grunted  Dan. 
Harvey  heard  that  much,  but  the  rest  was 
all  darkness  spotted  with  fiery  wheels.  Disko 
leaned  forward  and  spoke  to  his  wife,  where 
she  sat  with  one  arm  round  Mrs.  Cheyne,  and 
the  other  holding  down  the  snatching,  catch- 
ing, ringed  hands. 

*'  Lean  your  head  daown  —  right  daown ! " 
she  whispered.     "  It  '11  go  off  in  a  minute." 

"I  ca-an't!  I  do-don't!  Oh,  let  me — " 
Mrs.  Cheyne  did  not  at  all  know  what  she 
said. 

"  You  must,"  Mrs.  Troop  repeated.  "Your 
boy  's  jest  fainted  dead  away.  They  do  that 
some  when  they  're  gettin'  their  growth.  'Wish 
to  tend  to  him?  We  can  git  aout  this  side. 
Quite  quiet.  You  come  right  along  with  me. 
Psha*,  my  dear,  we  're  both  women,  I  guess. 
We  must  tend  to  aour  men-folk.     Come  !  " 

The  We  We  Heres  promptly  went  through 
the  crowd  as  a  body-guard,  and  it  was  a  very 
white  and  shaken  Harvey  that  they  propped 
up  on  a  bench  in  an  anteroom. 

"  Favors  his  ma,"  was  Mrs.  Troop's  only 


A 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  317 

comment,    as    the     mother    bent     over     her 
boy. 

"  How  d'  you  suppose  he  could  ever  stand 
it?  "  she  cried  indignantly  to  Cheyne,  who  had 
said  nothing  at  all.  "  It  was  horrible  —  hor- 
rible !  We  should  n't  have  come.  It  's  wrong 
and  wicked!  It  —  it  is  n't  right!  Why  — 
why  could  n't  they  put  these  things  in  the 
papers,  where  they  belong  ?  Are  you  better, 
darling?  " 

That  made  Harvey  very  properly  ashamed. 
"  Oh,  I  'm  all  right,  I  guess,"  he  said,  strug- 
gling to  his  feet,  with  a  broken  giggle.  "  Must 
ha'  been  something  I  ate  for  breakfast." 

"  Coffee,  perhaps,"  said  Cheyne,  whose  face 
was  all  in  hard  lines,  as  though  it  had  been 
cut  out  of  bronze.    "  We  won't  go  back  again.'* 

**  Guess  't  would  be  'baout  's  well  to  git 
daown  to  the  wharf,"  said  Disko.  "  It  's  close 
in  along  with  them  Dagoes,  an'  the  fresh  air 
will  fresh  Mrs.  Cheyne  up." 

Harvey  announced  that  he  never  felt  better 
in  his  life ;  but  it  was  not  till  he  saw  the 
We  're  Here,  fresh  from  the  lumper's  hands, 
at  Wouverman's  wharf,  that  he  lost  his  all- 
overish  feelings  in  a  queer  mixture  of  pride 
and  sorrowfulness.     Other  people  —  summer 


3i8  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS" 

boarders  and  such-like  —  played  about  in  cat- 
boats  or  looked  at  the  sea  from  pier-heads ; 
but  he  understood  things  from  the  inside  — 
more  things  than  he  could  begin  to  think 
about.  None  the  less,  he  could  have  sat 
down  and  howled  because  the  little  schooner 
was  going  off.  Mrs.  Cheyne  simply  cried  and 
cried  every  step  of  the  way,  and  said  most 
extraordinary  things  to  Mrs.  Troop,  who 
"babied"  her  till  Dan,  who  had  not  been 
"  babied  "  since  he  was  six,  whistled  aloud. 

And  so  the  old  crowd —  Harvey  felt  like  the 
most  ancient  of  mariners  —  dropped  into  the 
old  schooner  among  the  battered  dories,  while 
Harvey  slipped  the  stern-fast  from  the  pier- 
head, and  they  slid  her  along  the  wharf-side 
with  their  hands.  Every  one  wanted  to  say  so 
much  that  no  one  said  anything  in  particular. 
Harvey  bade  Dan  take  care  of  Uncle  Salters's 
sea-boots  and  Penn's  dory-anchor,  and  Long 
Jack  entreated  Harvey  to  remember  his  les- 
sons in  seamanship ;  but  the  jokes  fell  flat  in 
the  presence  of  the  two  women,  and  it  is  hard 
to  be  funny  with  green  harbor-water  widening 
between  good  friends. 

"  Up  jib  and  fores'l !  "  shouted  Disko,  get- 
ting to  the  wheel,  as  the  wind  took  her.    "  'See 


BIDDING   FAREWELL  TO   THE   "WE   'RE   HERE.' 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS'-  321 

you  later,  Harve.  Dunno  but  I  come  near 
thinkin*  a  heap  o'  you  an'  your  folks." 

Then  she  glided  beyond  ear-shot,  and  they 
sat  down  to  watch  her  up  the  harbor.  And 
still  Mrs.  Cheyne  wept. 

**  Psha*,  my  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Troop  ;  **  we  're 
both  women,  I  guess.  Like  's  not  it  '11  ease 
your  heart  to  hev  your  cry  aout.  God  He 
knows  it  never  done  me  a  mite  o'  good ;  but 
then  He  knows  I  Ve  had  something  to  cry 
fer!" 

Now  it  was  a  few  years  later,  and  upon  the 
other  edge  of  America,  that  a  young  man 
came  through  the  clammy  sea-fog  up  a  windy 
street  which  is  flanked  with  most  expensive 
houses  built  of  wood  to  imitate  stone.  To 
him,  as  he  was  standing  by  a  hammered  iron 
gate,  entered  on  horseback  —  and  the  horse 
would  have  been  cheap  at  a  thousand  dollars 
—  another  young  man.  And  this  is  what 
they  said : 

"Hello,  Dan!" 

"Hello,  Harve!" 

"  What  's  the  best  with  you  ?  " 

*'  Well,  I  'm  so  's  to  be  that  kind  o*  animal 
called  second  mate  this  trip.     Ain't  you  most 


322  "CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS** 

through   with    that  triple-invoiced   college  o* 
yours  : 

"  Getting  that  way.  I  tell  you,  the  Leland 
Stanford  Junior,  is  n't  a  circumstance  to  the 
old  tVe  We  Here ;  but  I  'm  coming  into  the 
business  for  keeps  next  fall." 

"  Meanin'  aour  packets?" 

•'  Nothing  else.  You  just  wait  till  I  get  my 
knife  into  you,  Dan.  I  'm  going  to  make  the 
old  line  lie  down  and  cry  when  I  take  hold." 

**  I  '11  resk  it,"  said  Dan,  with  a  brotherly 
grin,  as  Harvey  dismounted  and  asked  whether 
he  were  coming  in. 

"  That 's  what  I  took  the  cable  fer ;  but,  say, 
is  the  doctor  anywheres  araound  ?  I  '11  draown 
that  crazy  nigger  some  day,  his  one  cussed  joke 
an'  all." 

There  was  a  low,  triumphant  chuckle,  as  the 
ex-cook  of  the  We  're  Here  came  out  of  the 
fog  to  take  the  horse's  bridle.  He  allowed 
no  one  but  himself  to  attend  to  any  of  Harvey's 
wants. 

"Thick  as  the  Banks,  ain't  it,  doctor? "said 
Dan,  propitiatingly. 

But  the  coal-black  Celt  with  the  second- 
sight  did  not  see  fit  to  reply  till  he  had  tapped 
Dan  on  the  shoulder,   and  for  the  twentieth 


"CAPTAINS   COURAGEOUS"  323 

time  croaked  the  old,  old  prophecy  in  his 
ear: 

"Master  —  man.  Man  —  master,"  said  he. 
"  You  remember,  Dan  Troop,  what  I  said  ? 
On  the  We're  Here?'' 

"  Well,  I  won't  go  so  far  as  to  deny  that  it 
do  look  like  it  as  things  stand  at  present,"  said 
Dan.  "  She  was  an  able  packet,  and  one  way 
an'  another  I  owe  her  a  heap  —  her  and  dad." 

•■*  Me  too,"  quoth  Harvey  Cheyne 


9.9 


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